


Promise Me

by Kaleido (CreativeChemist)



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M, Fire Emblem Fates: Birthright Spoilers, Fire Emblem Fates: Conquest Spoilers, Fire Emblem Fates: Revelation Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-02-29 16:43:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18782146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeChemist/pseuds/Kaleido
Summary: In a world where fates intertwine, a promise is the only thread that can hold them together or tear them apart. [Major spoilers for all three routes.]





	1. Nocte

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this story came to me three years ago, around this time of the year. I had just completed my first playthroughs of Birthright and Conquest at that time, and both stories (especially Conquest) toyed with my heart in ways I never would have expected. After watching this story grow and ripen over the past three years, I am ecstatic for it to finally see the light of day!

**I.  Nocte**

 

He couldn’t remember anything.

His name, his identity, his mission… They were all snags in the back of his mind.

Everywhere he turned darkness greeted him. Not the kind that hides the sun after a long day, but the kind that chokes, constricts, crushes—the kind that washes the color out of the trees and tears the stinger out of the sun’s light. ~~~~

Each step he took fired naginatas into his thighs. Wreathed his lungs in smog. Fed fire cackling in the space between his ears. Flames, purple ones, licked the wounds bandaged under his tattered kimono, and smoke, dark as dusk, peeled off his skin like dawn mist. How strange it was, burning. Burning but not melting, crumbling, wasting away into ashes.

He leaned against a wall, air blistering, popping in his throat. Something warm and sticky slithered down his cheek, coiled around his jaw, burrowed into a gash on his neck. Webs of ink stained his vision, and they converged to single points like whirlpools, tiny whirlpools spinning round and round, swallowing the orange light raining from above. A metallic taste sat on his tongue. Blood. Dry like a higashi wafer. And a thicker, heavier odor seeped into his nose, slumbering, smoldering, suffocating…

An odor he dared not name.

His blood froze. Corpses were thrown against the walls, piled up and leaking crimson. Some bore knives between their ribs like practice dummies, others bore gashes that simmered with serum from sword slashes, others bore patches of skin that flaked like bark from sycamore trees, and all of them stared at severed limbs strewn across the tile.

Everything was still. No signs of life to be found, though cries, war cries, bloodcurdling cries stabbed his ears—as though the fallen were still alive and fighting alongside him.

…Or fighting against him, maybe?

Damn it. Damn it all. All he could remember was falling—falling from someplace high—and a scream pursuing him as he fell.

_“Takumi?! TAKUMI! NOOOOO!”_

After that, the whole world went dark, and now he stood…in the…

Where the hell was he?

One body after another met his eyes. Archers, samurai, ninjas… And among them monks, shrine maidens, apothecaries, others unrecognizable. Even children. Their bodies were crumpled in the corners of the hall, and their eyes were clouded by unfallen tears, fear, death.

Death.

Children condemned to death. Children condemned to death before knowing the joy of watching the sunrise under a sakura tree. Children condemned to death before knowing the joy of watching the sunset in a secret garden. Children condemned to death before knowing the joy of finding a warm hand in the coldest winter, a glowing lantern in the darkest night, a lost piece of their soul in one person they could call their beloved.

It wasn’t fair. They had so much to live for, and they just…

“Who?”

He crouched, thumb meeting the ashen cheek of a boy clothed in a white kimono, beige hakama trousers, and little brown boots. The boy hugged a silver yumi close to his chest, where a navy scarf—a silk one, it looked like—lay motionless. Blood melded the boy’s bangs into a dark blue slate, and a scarlet trickle ran from his light brown eye to the tiny smile his lips wore.

“Who did this to you?”

This boy… This was a boy with his whole life ahead of him, with a father and a mother who loved him to pieces, with dreams as big as the mountains. A boy with a smile so bright, so full of sunshine it could light up the blackest chasm.

But he… He was—

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, buddy…”

He picked himself up. One thing was clear: a crisis was at hand. Why else would the commander of these soldiers recruit children to fight alongside them? They were obviously desperate to defend this place from whoever invaded it.

But, in the end, it was a complete massacre.

What kind of place was this? What place was so important that even children had to die to protect it?

This couldn’t be any ordinary place. From the looks of it, it was a palace of some sort.

No.

It was Castle Shirasagi.

_I’m home?_

But that couldn’t be right. Home was always full of life. Always full of color. This couldn’t be home. Not with the blood staining the floor; not with the silence painting the walls. Not with all the children…

No.

Just yesterday he stood in this hall, listening to the clopping of the guards’ boots and the buzzing of the shamans’ voices, waiting for entry into the—

Throne room.

_What am I doing outside the throne room?_

He rummaged his mind for answers, reasons, explanations but found nothing. Not even the smallest scrap of memory. How? How could have he forgotten something like that, something so important? It wasn’t like he was the king, nor would he dare visit the king on such casual terms. There was a reason, a reason why he was here. But what?

And who even was the king?

_Something’s not right._

A feather brushed up his back. A stone dropped into the pit of his stomach.

Somebody was here. Somebody was definitely here, watching him, waiting in the shadows for his next move but disappearing at the slightest flicker of his eyes. A spy. It must have been a spy. And whoever they were, they had a bow with them. He was certain of it. Not any kind of bow but a valuable one, one that almost looked like—

_Betrayal…_

Betrayal?

_Death…_

What?

_Murder…_

“Y-you! Show yourself! Show yourself, o-or else!”

What was he thinking? They wouldn’t show themselves. Why would they? Why would they when they were so keen on hunting him down?

And why did their voice sound so familiar?

Their voice… It was something like the voice of a man footsteps from reaching the summit of his maturation after weathering countless ice storms during his ascent. The voice of a man seeking freedom from an icy blade lodged in his chest, a man striving to prove himself valuable to an audience of blind eyes, a man thirsting for revenge against the root of his suffering.

A man devoid of all hope.

Their words dripped onto his tongue. Sour, yet sweet. Revolting, yet intoxicating.

“Betrayal…”

Wrong, yet somehow right.

_What the hell?!_

He bit his lip and clapped his hand over his mouth. By the gods above, there was no way he actually said that, something so stupid. No… It was probably the odor getting to him. Maybe a walk outside would help to clear his—

_I’ll kill you…KILL…YOU!_

An echo in his mind, a rift in his head, numbing, agonizing. His hand shot to his back; his fingers clawed at nothing but empty air.

_That’s weird… Where did I…_

Ugh, of all the times to be unequipped. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not with his life at stake. Not with others’ lives at stake!

_You’ve gotta be kidding me. Where is it? I always take it with me wherever I go! So why—?_

Then, a searing cold oozed over his other hand, leaked through his glove, treaded up his arm, tousled the flames clinging to his garments, tore his skin apart at the seams. Gods, the pain—it was worse than all the times he reopened his wounds learning archery.

_Clack!_

He flinched. Wood, or maybe bamboo, striking the floor. Was the spy accepting their defeat? Turning tail to go home? Offering their bow as an offering? They would be stupid not to. After all, he was stronger than he looked, even without—

“My bow…”

The Fuujin Yumi lay at his feet. Was he holding it the whole time? Then… That meant he did fight here. But why was he the only one who survived? Surely an enemy would’ve snuck up from behind and beheaded him while he was firing arrows from afar. Except for a few shoji screens, there really weren’t many places to hide, unless…

Unless he showed up too late.

But that couldn’t be right. The blood from that battle… It was a perfume that sopped his clothes, an incense that fogged his mind. The blood… It scratched his wounds like sand trapped within a desert squall, swelled within his chest like a great red tidal wave crashing against a parched shoreline. The blood… The blood, it was… It was—

There was only one explanation: his survival was a miracle. Did the Fuujin Yumi protect him when he couldn’t protect himself? Was a divine weapon capable of doing such a thing?

He stooped down to recover Fuujin from the floor, but his knees buckled, stopping him mid-movement.

“My bow… What happened to my bow?”

The Fuujin Yumi was a birthright in the royal family, passed down for centuries until it ended up in his hands. Its body boasted a gold akin to the sunlight that rained upon the sakura trees on the first day of spring. From the wind, nature wove its bowstring and arrows to reflect the blue of the high-noon sky and the white of the clouds. At its wielder’s command, Fuujin could summon zephyrs that skimmed the surface of the water or gales that ripped ancient trees out of the ground. Anything was possible, so long as its wielder had a clear mind—one that could mirror its gold, blue, and white without flaw.

But those colors, those steadfast colors… They were gone. Silver cloaked its body, sucked the heat from his palm as he rewrapped his hand around its grip. The bowstring, a ribbon of shadow endowed with purple streaks, was pulled taut across the bow’s limbs, though he never commanded it to form.

“Betrayal…”

The Fuujin Yumi, betraying him. His precious Fuujin Yumi, the same yumi that had accepted him as its wielder and attuned its will to his, the same yumi he carried by his side from the moment he laid his eyes upon it…

Betraying him. That was all there was to it. Betrayal. Betrayal in its purest form.

“You! What the hell did you do to my bow?!”

He lifted Fuujin to his eyes, slid a finger along one of its wings. The grooves, the carvings, everything felt the same—even the chip in the upper limb from when he, out of self-loathing, had slammed Fuujin into a tree years ago.

But the way the wings gleamed under the orange light… The way it shimmered like a katana’s blade and reflected his eyes… It was wrong. All wrong.

Including his eyes.

The eyes staring back from Fuujin’s wing… They weren’t his eyes. His eyes were light brown. But the eyes in the wing… They were blood-red. They were blood-red and frothing with venom and swirling with other things he couldn’t name.

Acid rose in his throat. A bead of sweat kissed his cheek with incinerating lips. Those weren’t his eyes. His eyes were light brown. Not blood-red. Those weren’t his eyes. They weren’t. They weren’t, they weren’t, they were—

_Creak!_

Six people stood before him, facing the empty throne. When did he sneak past the door?

And who were these people?

There was a tall woman with wavy purple hair hugging a small girl with long blond hair, a tall man with curly blond hair resting his hand on the shoulder of a shorter man with straight blond hair, and a woman with the longest, bluest hair standing to the side, alone. Why couldn’t he recognize any of them? They were of royal blood like him; their manner of dress signified it. But they seemed out of place. No one in Hoshido ever wore black—and such an abhorrently dark shade too—except if they were mourning. But these people… They looked like they didn’t know how to mourn or how to process any human emotion, for that matter.

_Nohrian scum._

That was right. They were the Nohrian royalty, the ones responsible for that horrid display of carnage outside. They just had to be! Those bastards! Those devils! How could they just waltz in and slay all those soldiers—all those children?!

They didn’t know mercy. They were rotten to their very cores.

They were soulless.

But wait… There was still the sixth person, hobbling toward the throne. A woman with white hair hanging in dirty knots spilling over shaking shoulders. Scratches and dents marked her armor; gashes and bruises marked her skin. She stood tall with her right knee bent at an unnatural angle, and blood stained her feet—her bare, blistered, delicate feet.

_Kamui…_

What was she doing with them? She was supposed to be with him, not them. Wasn’t she?

_All your fault… This is…all your fault…_

All he could see was Kamui lying in a crimson puddle. Cold. Limp. Lifeless.

_No… Stop…_

Cold. Limp. Lifeless. An arrow in the back of her head. Scarlet cords tying around her neck, choking her, constricting her, condemning her to the darkness—

_No! Not her! Anybody but her!_

—just as she deserved.

So long as she had breath in her lungs, he would be a lost soul wandering the snowy slopes of mountains, forgotten by time, forsaken by the world. So long as the world had her, it didn’t need him. It only needed her, that traitor who took every good thing from his life and dashed it to pieces.

She didn’t care. Hell, no one cared. He was destined to endure the world’s wrath by himself from the beginning, all because of her.

All because of Kamui.

_I am ignored…alone…forgotten… I will… I MUST…_

“Kill… Betray…”

Legs stiffened. Fingers hooked around the bowstring and started drawing back. She was like the rest of them, like the rest of those wretched Nohrians. A beast without a heart. A beast who couldn’t feel remorse.

A beast with no trace of humanity.

And like all the beasts he encountered on his hunting trips, she would die by his hands.

Cold. Limp. Lifeless. An arrow in the back of her head. The earth’s mouth opening and swallowing her whole. 

_Kamui… Something’s not right. There’s something, something beneath the surface, something that’s—_

The words rattled against his throat like chains coated in rust. Chains that slinked through his veins, grinded against his trembling joints, sparked more flames along his forearms and stitched curtains of smoke, whispered incantations in unknown tongues, poisoned his blood with cries of the forlorn.

No matter how loud he cried out, his cries would always be engulfed by silence. No matter how hard the rain fell, the rain would never wash the mud away. Hope would always be just out of reach; the thorn in his heart would never become a rose.

His path was destined for everlasting pain.

All because of her.

All because of Kamui.

_If you die…I can rest… If you die…the pain… The pain will stop…if I kill you!_

The pain… It hammered his skull with each breath. Shrieked in his muscles as he pulled the bowstring farther back. Chilled his heart like a parasite.

The pain… It was the only thing he had left. The only thing he could cling to.

There she stood, so blissfully unaware. She was the root of everything: all his problems, all his insecurities, all his anxieties, all his pain. One arrow, and her existence would be uprooted like the abysmal weed she was.

_Betrayal, death, murder… That is all there is. Betrayal, death, murder… I will not…be swayed._

An arrow wove to life from the flames. Soon it would be over. She would be dead, nothing but a distant memory, and he would finally taste freedom from it all.

_Please… Help me, Sister._

“Betrayal… Betrayal… I AM BETRAYAL!”

He released the bowstring and the arrow cut through the air, flew farther and farther away, closed in on Kamui’s head, until—

A strike.

A gasp.

A thud.

Then silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapters will be posted every Friday until we reach the end!


	2. Crepusculum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here is Chapter 2!

  **II. Crepusculum**

 

Takumi bolted upright, eyes snapping open. The blood… The blood… It was everywhere, the corpses were everywhere, he released the arrow, it was everywhere, the blood, in the air, in his breath, in his eyes—

In her hair.

Lightning spilled over his head, sizzled through his pores, coated his mind, his heart, his hands, his feet, his everything in an electrical shiver.

_Bu-bump, bu-bump, bu-bump, bu-bump—_

Instinct. All he knew was instinct; instinct as he scrambled to his feet. Time was running short, so short, tumbling out of his fingers, spilling into a crimson puddle—

He had to find her. He had to. That was all that mattered—finding her warmth, her strength, her breath.

Her life.

Because if her life ceased to exist, his life would cease to exist.

_Gods… Oh, gods—_

For she was the rose that grew from the veil of thorns over his heart.

_Please don’t tell me… No… She can’t be—_

For she was the spring rain that washed the mud from his wounds.

_No… What have I done? What have I done to her?!_

“Mm…”

For she was the answer to his silent cries.

“K-Kamui?”

He whirled around. A silk blanket swathed her body like a chrysalis, and her arms were outstretched as though to welcome the night sky into her embrace. Her head was tipped to the side, and her frost-white curls fanned out like dandelion seeds upon a stalk. The moonlight outlined the softness of her face, loosened the sharpness that accompanied her jaw by daylight, removed her from the unresolved injustices ravishing the famished world.

Freed her from the fiery arrow of death.

She wasn’t dying.

She wasn’t lying on the floor of the throne room, soaking in her own blood.

She was lying on a futon—their futon—in their bedroom, sleeping.

She was living.

His lips quivered. His fingers twitched. His eyes watered.

He didn’t kill her.

Takumi collapsed by her side. Sobs broke out of his chest; tears sliced across his cheeks and struck the blanket. He lay his head next to hers, brought his trembling fingers to her hair, combed through the ringlets one by one. Her hair flowing around his calloused fingertips… It was the only thing preventing him from shattering into pieces.

That, and her scent.

Her scent was enthralling—a batter of wood and tea leaves that rivaled the scent of freshly baked mochi.

That meant only one thing. She snuck out to test her archery skills after he fell asleep. Again.

He loved that about her: her resolve. Loath as he was to admit it, he had first seen it when she had approached him to learn how to shoot a bow. She insisted to keep practicing when she cut her palm during her first week of practice, and she even went so far as to venture to the woods by herself, a bow folded in her bandaged hand. Whenever he ran into her on his own bouts of training, he watched from a distance, swallowing the urge to yell at her for being stupid and not letting her hand heal and pushing herself too hard, while reining in the urge to jump out of the shrubbery and lavish her in approval at the same time.

He had been jealous. So jealous. Within a matter of months, she had gone from not knowing what a nock was to hitting a target ten times in a row without fail. She possessed natural talent for the art. He did not. Why the Fuujin Yumi selected somebody as inept as him as its current wielder… That still blew his mind.

However, those feelings waned in her presence.

From day one, she had consumed his every waking thought. The sun shooting through her pupils and flooding the cracks in her cherry-red eyes. Her long white hair fluttering in the wind with the sakura petals. Her blistered toes skipping along the tips of the grass blades as she walked.

Her sweet laugh. The dimples adorning her smile.

Everything about her endeared him, shattered his thoughts into fragments, squeezed the air out of his gasping heart, and for the longest time, he couldn’t figure out why.

Kamui was beautiful. That was the truth. He could stare at her for an eternity and never grow bored of how her cheeks dusted pink when she was happy, or how her eyebrows laced together like a little bow when she was lost in thought, or how her nose crinkled when she freed that charming laugh from her lips.

But it wasn’t her outward beauty that captivated him. It was her heart.

Her heart was a treasure trove that shone brighter than all the stars in the world. A pearl in the ocean’s depths waiting to be found yet never making itself known. A torch long sequestered in an icy tower, never flickering once.

Her heart was beautiful.

Hers was a heart that trusted others without question. One that waited to be invited into his inner fortress to meet his most authentic self, even after all the times he slammed the door in her face.

Even after he labeled her a stranger, an interloper, a curse.

She had stricken him in the heart, and he numbed himself to the sting of her arrow for so long.

But after so long, he couldn’t take it anymore.

_“Why?”_

_A candle drowning in the silver moonlight. Tears streaming down enflamed cheeks in the dead of night._

_“Why, why, why?”_

_The taste of salt on dry lips. A galloping heart._

_“It’s not fair… I can’t be… I-I can’t love—I can’t. She’s my—”_

_Forbidden thoughts. Broken dreams._

_“Damn it! How did I let this happen?! How did I fall in love with my own sister?! It’s shameful! It’s disgusting! It’s not fair!”_

_A heavy blanket muffling bitter sobs. A damp blanket masking puffy eyes._

_“I-it’s not fair… Gods… I-it’s not—why did it have to be her? Why?!”_

 

Why?

That simple question had skulked in the quiet of night for months, ever ready to snatch his sleep away at the precipice of slumber. Why did she have to be his sister? Why did he have to fall in love with her, of all people? Why was love so confusing? Why was his head telling him his feelings were wrong while his heart was telling him his feelings were right? Why did calling her Sister make him want to scream? Why did everything have to be so damn complicated? Why?

It wasn’t fair. By blood she was his older sister; she would never become anything more. She was a peach too high in the tree to be picked, a deer too swift to be hunted, a dream too good to be true. All his fantasies about exploring the world with her and watching sunsets hand in hand with her were just that: fantasies. Fantasies foaming within that would never see the light of day. When she was close, all he wanted to do was touch her, feel the warmth imbedded in her hands, but he couldn’t. Even that was a forbidden act—an act deserving of rightful punishment.

Though, every day without her had been punishment enough.

It was a living hell.

Hell was a parched field yearning for the dampness of rain, only to receive the frigid bite of snow. It was a blistered patch of skin yearning for the coolness of ice, only to receive the scathing thorns of fire. It was a little boy yearning for a loving hand in the night’s darkest hours, only to receive stark silence that smashed his cries to pieces.

Hope didn’t exist in hell. All he could do was hide in his bedroom, bury his face in his hands, scrunch his knees against his chest, press his back into the wall, and curse himself for letting it happen. The only love he could offer was the love of a younger brother. He was a fool for thinking otherwise. It was his mantra, the mantra he had recited to himself every sleepless night.

Until solace broke through one cool morning.

 

_“Ah, Takumi! What a lovely surprise! I wasn’t expecting to see you here. How is my sweet son doing?”_

_“Oh… Hello, Mother. I-I’m fine. Just have a lot on my mind right now. But it’s nothing.”_

_“Are you sure? I hate to see you so troubled, my dear.”_

_The parting of his lips._

_“Mother… This might be hard to hear, but I…I don’t know how I should feel about Kamui finally being home. I mean, I should be excited since she’s my sister, but I just… I can’t bring myself to trust her like everybody else. What if this is some sort of trap that the Nohrians planned out? What if she tries to hurt you? What if—?”_

_A warm hand on his shoulder._

_“Takumi… Please don’t be afraid. Words cannot describe the tragedies that took place on that day. The Nohrians were wrong, so wrong to take your father and sister away from us. But Kamui… She’s not like them. Her intentions are pure. Even if she can’t remember her homeland, she’s the same girl I held in my arms long ago. She would never bring harm to me, or any of us.”_

_“But, Mother! How can you be so sure she won’t—?”_

_“It’s something you won’t understand until you have a child of your own, sweetheart. Besides…”_

_A smile glistening in her eyes._

_“Kamui would love to meet you. Will you consider speaking with her when you have time? It would mean the world to her!”_

_“…Fine. I suppose I’ll give it some thought. But only because you asked.”_

_“Takumi… I understand it may be difficult for you to accept your sister for who she is. But I hope you will find a place in your heart to love her someday. Love has the power to heal all wounds.”_

_An exchange of heartfelt words. An envelope dusting his ungloved palms._

_“Speaking of love, I want you to read this if you ever worry about the woman you love. Love… It works in surprising ways.”_

_A stroke through his hair. A kiss on his cheek._

_“W-wait! Mother, what is this? What does this have to do with—?”_

_But she disappeared beyond the fold of the shrubbery._

 

“Mother… Thank you.”

All those months ago, he had worried about the one he loved.

_Thank you for accepting my feelings at face-value._

All those months ago, he had opened her letter and read it to the last stroke.

_Thank you for freeing me from my doubts._

All those months ago, he had found a place in his heart to love Kamui without restraint.

_Thank you for telling me the truth._

She knew. Mother knew.

Takumi propped himself on an elbow and continued stroking Kamui’s hair, stopping every few seconds to make sure she was still asleep. That was the last thing he wanted—to wake her because of some pathetic sniveling.

“Kamui…”

_Kamui._

Her name was a beacon of light amidst his churning sea. A salve for his bleeding heart.

_Kamui._

Her name was everything.

She was everything.

But that nightmare… Gods, that nightmare.

He pointed his bow at her, his beloved, his sunrise and killed her in cold blood, like a Nohrian devil.

He pointed his bow at her, but that bow… It wasn’t his bow. It was a fake, a bow forged by lies and calamity that sought to replicate the divinity and purity of the Fuujin Yumi. Whatever the hell that bow was, it feasted upon his latent insecurities and dragged them to the surface in a blood-red haze that imbued his mind, his words, his actions.

When he held that bow, he was no longer himself. He was a prisoner in his own body, watching evil manifest from within.

The corpses, the blood, the flames, the voices, the pain… It all added up.

It was just like when he came stumbling out of the trees in Mokushu. Just like when he seized Azura outside the Nohrian throne room. Kamui told him not to worry about either of those times, but how could he not? How could he not worry when somebody else used his lips to proclaim their corrupt schemes? How could he not worry when something else used his body to bring harm to everybody he held dear?

How could he not worry when all he remembered was being trapped in a soundless black void, unable to hear his own thoughts?

Sure, Azura broke the seal and tamed the demon both times it happened. He would be forever grateful for that. But that didn’t mean it couldn’t happen a third time.

His stomach tightened. What if it did happen again? What if he went to the woods with Kamui and leveled the bow to her head instead of the target? What if he couldn’t reach through in time to protect her? What if that demon shredded his mind to pieces?

What would he do? What would she do? Would she put up a fight? Would she run away? Or would she let him have his way?

Hopefully he would never find the answers to those questions.

“I love you.”

His lips met her cheek. It was soft, so soft he couldn’t help but plant another kiss by the bridge of her nose, under her long eyelashes.

_I love you._

She was the light that scattered to the sky above. She was the dawn that broke through his gloom. She was the hand that invited him to embrace a brand-new day by her side.

_I love you, Kamui._

No longer were his nights cold and lonely. No matter how awful the nightmares were, she would always be there to wrap him in her arms.

Because wherever she was, the nightmares faded away.

He closed his eyes and melted into her warmth.

_Because of you, I am who I am._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little dose of fluff never hurts after angst, right?
> 
> A brief side note: I managed to summon both Fallen!Corrin and Fallen!Berkut in FEH over the last week! Now my Fallen!Takumi will never be lonely again. <3
> 
> Chapter 3 will be published next Friday. (It's a promise!)


	3. Primis Tenebris

**III. Primis Tenebris**

 

He remembered everything.

One more step. One more step and the pain would go away. One more step and he would fall off the Great Wall. Never again would the bloodlust taint his mind—the insatiable desire to kill her, the petty princess of betrayal, his long-lost older sister.

_Kamui…_

Gods, it hurt. It hurt so much. The blood-red gong resounding in his head. The blood-red razor raking over his torn flesh. The blood-red cloud stinging his eyes and staining his lips. Her blood-red eyes driving daggers into his heaving chest.

How could she? How could she step into the light where she was welcomed with open arms, only to wade into the darkness again without a second thought? How could she call those devils her siblings and turn her back on her own flesh and blood without the slightest guilt? How could she feel no remorse for all the innocent townspeople who died by her sword’s blade when all they wanted was to see the face of their lost princess?

How could she plea for peace when she was the one who took away his kingdom’s last peace?

_It hurts…_

All he could see was blood. Kamui, covered in blood. Hoshidan blood. His blood.

A fiery blade plunged into his skull. An iron tang lashed across his tongue.

All he could see was blood.

Kamui, covered in blood.

Nohrian blood.

Her blood.

_The blood… The blood, it’s…_

His foot shuffled closer to the wall’s edge. One more step. One more step and it would all be over. No more betrayal, no more death, no more murder—

No more pain.

Just one more step, and he would finally taste freedom from it all.

_Make it stop… Please… Make it stop!_

His hand dove through the crimson miasma searching for something, anything to grab. Anything to thaw the ice incinerating his palm; anything to root his spinning mind in firm soil.

However, all he latched onto was the air.

So empty, so silent, so heavy it was… A stark contrast to the screams corroding his eardrums:

_It burns… The pain… The pain of betrayal…BURNS!_

Then another voice, a female one:

“Takumi! Are you okay?!”

_Sister…_

He inched backward.

“Shut up!”

“Brother…”

She inched forward.

“I said shut up! D-don’t you dare call me that, you savage!”

_Sister… What’s wrong with me? Why am I mad at you?_

“I—”

“This is all your fault! ALL YOUR FAULT!”

Yes… Everything was her fault.

“If it weren’t for you, none of these horrible things would’ve happened to Hoshido!”

Traitor.

“No one would’ve had to die!”

Murderer.

“We… We could’ve been a family!”

Stranger.

“I know.”

_What?_

“I know I’m at fault for a lot of what’s happened. I know…”

Ha! As if taking ownership for her wrongdoing would change anything. Deep down she was still a liar. A big, fat liar just like the rest of those scum. A liar and a coward and a thief and a murderer and—

A puppet. A mindless puppet letting her fake father, that fake Nohrian king pull her strings.

But why? Why was she letting him control her like that?

“I know I’ve hurt you, Ryouma, Sakura, Hinoka, and others beyond measure. This path… It’s reaped nothing but despair.” She shook her head. “I’ve seen too many innocent people die. Every night I see their faces. Every night I hear their cries. They beg me to spare them, but I…I don’t. I kill them. Every night I kill them and see their blood pour out. I see their eyes fill with tears. And the worst part is…”

Her voice drew into a whisper.

“I see you too. I see you lying there, dying with them. I see the tears in your eyes and the fear in your face. I see the petering flame of a young man who wants to do nothing more than protect the family he holds so dear. And that—”

She locked him in her glassy gaze.

“—Is what I fear most. That I’ve already killed that man.”

He gritted his teeth. “You’re nothing but a stranger to me. What makes you think you know anything?”

_What am I saying?_

She knew him better than anybody else did—better than his own siblings, even. She knew his favorite food was miso soup and his favorite game was shogi. She knew he liked staying up late to study historical battles and waking up early to train before the sunrise. She knew how much he loved having his shoulders massaged and how much he hated having his feet tickled.

She knew all those things.

So why did she feel so far away?

“Because…” Her fingers sought her cape, twisted the fluttering fabric. “If I’m hurting, then I know you’re hurting too. My pain is something I deserve, but your pain… It’s an injustice. I was foolish; I was so foolish for thinking I could end the war within Nohr’s borders. All I’ve done is cause more misery.”

The Yato struck the stone by her feet with a clang.

“No amount of words or actions can atone for everything I’ve done. But what I do know is this: love has the power to heal even the worst of wounds.”

She gave a bittersweet smile.

“I love you, Takumi. All I’ve ever wanted was to see you smile…for you to be happy. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry I’ve taken your happiness away.”

_What are you saying?_

Didn’t she have any idea? Any idea of the happiness that blotted out his darkest hours when she smiled and the dimples budded on her cheeks or when she laughed and the little crinkles stitched themselves up the sides of her nose? Any idea of the happiness that satisfied his soul’s deepest longing to be accepted despite his imperfections?

To be accepted because he was imperfect?

The happiness she gave him… It was freedom; freedom from himself.

So why did he feel so trapped?

“Your words mean nothing! NOTHING!”

_No… That’s not true._

“Why should I accept what you’re saying when you betrayed us for them? Tell me!”

_Your words mean everything._

“Why should I trust you when you went back to Nohr a-after you—after Mother died protecting you?! Why? Tell me! TELL ME WHY, KAMUI!”

_Your words mean everything because you were the one who taught me how to trust._

“Y-you took everything away from me! I hate you… I HATE YOU!”

_You’re the only worth my life has left. I can’t lose you too._

But who was he kidding? Now she stood among the Nohrian royalty. She had chosen them as her family, not him.

“It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters…not anymore.”

Purple and black flames took up his vision as his body started tipping backward.

_No one…loves me…_

He was unlovable.

_No one…cares…_

He was forgettable.

_You’re a failure._

Yes. He was a failure.

A failure to his kingdom, unable to prevent its collapse under the Nohrian army’s obsidian mace.

_Feeble._

A failure to his family, unable to save Mother’s life on that fateful day.

_Useless._

A failure to himself, unable to fight back against the hatred and shame brewing in his soul.

_Pathetic._

How could a failure like him show his face to his kingdom, to his family, to anybody ever again?

_Nobody will miss you._

That was right. Nobody would miss him. For he was a nightmare, a living nightmare who brought nothing but grief and heartache into the world.

_Please… Help me, Sister._

And the only way to wake up from it all was to—

“TAKUMI!”

A warm crimson-stained hand clasped his frigid gloved one.

_Bu-bump. Bu-bump. Bu-bump._

And like the sakura petals opening to embrace the first breath of spring, the flames curled away from his flesh and scattered to the sky above. ~~~~

_Bu-bump. Bu-bump. Bu-bump. ~~~~_

His body was still dangling over the wall. ~~~~

His heart was still beating. ~~~~

He was still alive. ~~~~

_Sister… Thank y— ~~~~_

“You! What do you think you’re doing?!” ~~~~

All the muscles in his shoulders knotted. Damn it! His one chance at achieving freedom was crumbling under his feet, all because of her. ~~~~

All because of Kamui. ~~~~

Kamui. ~~~~

_Kamui— ~~~~_

“Why are you still here? Just throw me away… Throw me away like everybody else!”

“No, Takumi!”

The glass shielding her eyes cracked.

“I-I will never do such a thing!”

A flurry of crystals shattered against his forehead.

“You say nothing matters, but you’re wrong! Your life matters… You matter, Takumi; you matter to me!”

Her hand was so warm. Like a bonfire on a snowy summit enveloping his frostbitten fingers.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t… I-I can’t watch you throw your life away like this. I just can’t! You matter too much! I would never be able to forgive myself for standing back and doing nothing!”

How could a hand sullied by the blood of his kinsmen feel so warm?

“Your siblings would be devastated if you were gone. I would be devastated if you were gone! Takumi, I…I love you so much that it hurts sometimes. I-I know you hold a lot of anger toward me, but I accept all of it. Even if… Even if you hate me or want to kill me, I still love you because you’re my little brother.”

She hiccupped and tugged on his arm.

“I just… I want you to live. To truly live. I want you to know what happiness is. I want you to live to see a day without war between our kingdoms. I want you to be free from whatever is troubling you.”

A sob racked her body.

“So, please… Don’t give up… Don’t give up on yourself!”

Her voice echoed off the canopy of trees below, and it sent chills racing down his arms.

Kamui was strong, confident, brave—all things he would never become. And here she was, crying for him.

She was crying for him, a weak, anxious, scared excuse of a human being.

She loved him. She cared for him.

It didn’t matter if the world turned its back on him. Nor did it matter if everybody living in that world scorned him or hated him or wanted him dead. Nothing mattered, because he still mattered to somebody.

He mattered to her.

Gloved fingers tightened around delicate fingers.

“Kamui… I’m sorry.”

A silvered line ran down her cheek. His face mimicked hers.

“I’m sorry for all the things I’ve said to you. For all the times I tried to…hurt you.”

That much he couldn’t deny—how he let his words lash out at her, even before the war escalated. But when did he try to hurt her? And why was she with them?

Was she with them because he hurt her elsewhere?

“I was such a coward. I didn’t know how to handle my feelings, so I kept running away from them. It’s my fault I ended up like this, and I just… I wish I could take everything back and start over.”

“You can. You can start over, right now.” Her lips pressed into a soft frown. “I believe in you. You’re much stronger than you think, you know that?”

“Kamui…”

_How can somebody as beautiful as you love somebody as broken as me?_

A puff of wind swept his bangs over his eyes.

“No… It’s too late. This is the end for me.”

“Takumi… Why would you say something like that? Isn’t there something I can do to help?”

Her questions hung limp over his shoulders. She didn’t understand. Hell, she would never understand. If he was a peach, she only knew of the bruises on his skin, not the papery flesh underneath. His stem was too frail; he fell off the tree too early, and he would never sway upon the branches again. He would never ripen into the prince his kingdom needed; he was destined to wither in the shadow of his ineptitude until the darkness mashed him under its foot and spattered his pulp in the grass.

It was impossible to reverse the damage. All she could do was prolong it, prolong the illness eroding his soul.

No. It was worse. Much, much worse than an illness.

The air in his throat thickened into molasses.

When did it happen?

_When did I become a demon’s puppet?_

 “Sister… What I’m about to ask might be hard to do, but you’re the only person I know who can do it.”

With everything he had, he steadied his breath. It razed against his nostrils.

“I…”

_I believe in you._

Her head perked up, and her eyes impaled his heart through the chest and out the back.

_I believe in you because you first believed in me._

“I need you to promise me that you’ll survive.”

_Because of you, I know what true happiness is._

“Promise me that if I ever point my bow at you again, you’ll kill me…and save yourself.”

_So, if there’s one thing that would make me happy, it’s this: you. You, continuing to live while I go somewhere far away from here._

“N-no…”

Her fingers twitched; shivers rippled down his arm.

“No, Takumi! I can’t—!”

Why?

“Please, Kamui! You have to!”

Why did she have to be so stubborn? Damn it all!

“Please… You’re the only one who can set me fr— A-ah! My head!”

A jab to the back of his head sent the world whirling. Blood thrashed against the sides of his skull, pounding, pounding, pounding, like a volcano teetering on the cusp of erupting. No longer could he distinguish the border between wall and sky; they flowed together as a rust-colored wave flecked by grainy patches of black flashing in and out of existence. At the same time, sparks of white ruptured in his ears, leaving holes that welled with scarlet omens.

_I will kill…my enemies… KILL THEM! KILL…_

He had to keep fighting back, but for how long? How much longer did he have until the demon would break free?

“Takumi! Oh, gods; Takumi!”

Did he even stand a chance?

“I-it’s okay, Sister… It’s okay. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Since when did lying come so easily to him?

_Is this it?_

He was not okay.

_Is this really the end?_

He was going to die.

_I don’t want to die._

But if she didn’t let go…

_But if it’s for you…_

“Takumi… How long have y—?”

“I don’t know. But that doesn’t matter.” Wisps of smoke slithered out of his gauntlet anew, cloaking his forearm in purple mist, threatening to feast upon her fingers. “What does matter is if you can keep that promise.”

No matter what, he couldn’t let the demon touch his sunrise.

She sniffled and ran her thumb over his knuckles. “If… If doing that makes you happy, then…” Her eyes twinkled, illuminated her lopsided smile. “Then it makes me happy too. I promise I won’t let you down, Takumi.”

Her grip around his hand softened ever so slightly.

“Th-thank you…”

Even if the darkness threatened to swallow her, she would triumph. She would triumph because she was the light.

“Takumi, stay with me. I’ll get you back up here. Then I’ll take you home, and then we can rest…”

She would continue to live, even in his absence.

 “…F-forgive me, but… I… I want to rest now. I hope you understand… Really, I hope you do.”

He gave a weak smile.

“I love you, Kamui. Someday we’ll see each other again… I’m sure of it.”

Gloved fingers slipped away from delicate fingers. Cherry-red eyes widened into broken dewdrops.

_I’m falling._

He was falling.

He was falling, and there was nothing he could do except watch; watch the blood-red sun sink behind the Great Wall and smear the embrasures orange and pink. Such a mesmerizing sunset—if things had turned out differently, he could’ve clung to her hand and watched the sun dive into the earth with her.

But no. The gap was widening by the second. Soon enough his body would strike the ground, and it would all be over.

_Sister…_

He couldn’t bear to look at her—look at her body wilting over the wall’s edge.

_Sister, will you catch me one more time?_

 

_“AAAAH! BIG SISTER, HELP! I’M FALLING! HELP ME!”_

_“Oh no! Takumi!”_

_Mischievous plans turned wrong. A sakura tree on a hill cracking under his weight. The scent of flowering higanbanas threatening his premature death._

_“Oomph!”_

_A pair of bodies crashing together, tumbling down the hill. A pair of arms cradling his trembling shoulders, silencing his plummet._

_“Brother, a-are you okay?!”_

_“I think so… I-I was so scared. But I’m okay now ‘cause you saved me. Th-thank you, Big Sis.”_

_“Don’t worry, Taku. I’ll never, ever let you get hurt. I’ll always catch you when you fall!”_

_“Promise?”_

_The sun lighting up her cherry-red eyes. The wind sifting through her long white hair._

_“I promise. Always.”_

 

He closed his eyes, embraced the wind at his sides. At long last he was free. Nothing could bother him now—not even the fiery chains coiling around his body, growing tighter, tighter, tighter…heavier, heavier, heavier.

_As long as I’m with you, I know I will be okay. Because of you, I… I…_

“Takumi?! TAKUMI! NOOOOO!”

Her scream pursued him farther and farther down, closer and closer to the ground, before…before he…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confused yet? Don't worry; everything will make sense in due time. That's a promise! c:
> 
> Two fun facts about this chapter:  
> 1\. This was the very first chapter I wrote for this story! I remember sitting and listening to A Dark Fall on loop for hours as I drafted this back in 2016.  
> 2\. This chapter was heavily inspired by one of my favorite fanfics on this website--a tale titled "Disillusioned Fragments." I don't have enough words to describe how amazing it is, but I highly recommend it to everyone who loves Takumi x Kamui/Corrin!
> 
> Chapter 4 next Friday!


	4. Meridiem

  **IV. Meridiem**

 

He hit the ground, but he kept falling.

Darkness caved around him, breathing down his back, pushing and pulling his limbs, gnawing on his bones. Hisses scratched his ears, beginning as growls that rumbled through his veins, growing into guttural cries that tore through the air.

Everything went black. No outline separated his body from the darkness—his hands, his feet, and everything in between flowed in and out of it. It was like the darkness itself was seeping into his pores, blackening his blood, diffusing through his head, his heart and trying to push him out.

Was he blind? Or was the darkness so thick it concealed even the smallest hints of light?

Pressure built in his head as shadows pushed against his skull. Pressure built in his chest as his heart pushed against shadows. It grew with no signs of slowing—no signs of relenting.

A mirror appeared and casted a gray glow upon his body. He treaded toward it. His reflection did the same. He pressed a hand against it. His reflection did the same. He took a step backward.

His reflection did not.

His reflection disappeared and reappeared behind him, flashed a twisted grin.

He did not.

“I am you… You are me… We are one of the same… It’s time to come out of the shadows…”

His reflection’s lips moved. His did the same.

His reflection seized his throat. His eyes filled with blood. Blood-red eyes of all sizes opened across his flesh. The darkness pounded behind his eyes, behind his ribcage, swelling, swelling, swelling, scratching, scrounging, screaming, chipping, cleaving, cracki—

His hands shot to his neck. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t die like this. He still had his whole life ahead of him…his whole life with—

“Taku…”

His reflection’s fingers morphed into silk, and everything crumbled. The darkness, the mirror, the eyes, the ground… Everything. And it left him staring into nothing and lying on his side, clinging to that lone piece of silk, paralyzed.

_Bu-bump, bu-bump, bu-bump, bu-bump—_

What just happened? What the hell was that?

His breath came in gasps, itching his throat. The blood… Oh, gods, the blood… It was everywhere. Splattered against the Great Wall… Swirling in his eyes, painted across the sky, staining his hands, powdered in his mouth, leaching her hair—

“Takumi…”

Something squeezed his shoulder, not too hard, not too soft, just about right. It pressed and released…pressed and released while something else drew strokes connecting his shoulders together. With each stroke, his heart slowed, his muscles relaxed, his body sank a bit more…

“Taku, my love… I’m here…”

The afterimages faded and there she stood in the blackness, clothed in the sun and smiling with her cherry-red eyes.

 _Kamui_ _…_

Was she really there? Were the hands massaging his back hers? Was the voice calling out to him hers?

Or, was another nightmare going to unfold?

_Kamui, why do I always stand against you in my dreams?_

What kind of husband dreams of killing his beloved? Why did he never have any good dreams of her? Why was his mind so damn messed up?

“I’m here… I’m here…”

He wasn’t worthy of her companionship. He wasn’t worthy and he never would be. What right did a lost soul like him have in the presence of a goddess?

He hunched his knees to his chest and curled his shoulders inward, tighter, tighter, tighter. Maybe if he kept folding upon himself, he would disappear and Kamui would be freed of him. Especially if…

Purple flames whipped his eyes. Tears threw themselves against his eyelids, begging for mercy.

Especially if the demon was still lurking inside.

He bit his lip and buried his face in the silk.

Especially if the demon was waiting for an opportunity to strike. To strike her.

No. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let that happen. Even if the demon won a million times in his dreams, he would defeat it before it could lay its eyes on her. But how could he, a weak, anxious fool, defeat something as formidable as a demon, especially when he knew nothing about it?

Tighter, tighter, tighter he folded. He swallowed, and the walls of his throat rubbed together like two splintered planks of wood.

“It’s okay… I’m right here… It’s okay…”

No. No, it wasn’t. He had to leave, he had to leave right now or else the demon would—

His eyelids tore away from his eyes. He flung the silk away and scrambled to his feet and made for the door and tripped over something and began to fall—

But, before his face smashed into the floor, something caught his wrist, turned him around, and wrapped around his body. Not too tight, not too loose…

Just about right.

 _Bu-bump_ _… Bu-bump… Bu-bump…_

Tears clung to his eyelashes the same way sakura petals clung to the trees in the summer—they didn’t. With a single breath, they let go and collected on his cheeks, under his chin, and on her shoulder. He swallowed a sob, letting it rot in his stomach with all the others.

Gods, he was tired. Tired of his mind blurring the lines between nightmares and reality. Hell, he was probably being overly dramatic about all of this. Over a year passed since the demon showed itself. There was no way it could come back…unless—

“Taku, I’ve got you… I’m right here… Everything’s okay…”

Unless if Azura failed. But what were the chances of that? Was the demon actually lying dormant, listening to the outside world and his thoughts? Or was he just going crazy from all the sleep robbed from him over the years?

Why couldn’t his head just cut him some slack?

“K-Kamui…”

He stepped back and met her eyes. Eyes rimmed red and framed by white bedhead. White bedhead outlined by the sun peeking through the window.

His sunrise.

The demon’s prey.

“Kamui, after what happened to me in Nohr and Mokusku… Do you trust me?”

“Takumi…”

What a great question to ask your beloved first thing in the morning. Not ‘How are you?’ or ‘How did you sleep?’ but ‘Are you scared of me?’

“I’m serious. I need to know.”

Her brows creased and her forehead wrinkled, yet a smile spread across her face. “Well, in that case… Do you know how much you light up my life? Do you know how empty I would feel without you?”

She dabbed a tear off his chin and caressed his cheek.

“You give my life meaning, Taku. I know you would never hurt me on purpose. It’s not who you are. You’re beautiful inside and out! So, if there’s one thing I want you to know, I want you to know that. Know how special you are to me.”

_Me, special? Me, a light?_

He bit back the urge to shake her by the shoulders and call her out for her lies.

“How…”

_…Can you say that?_

If anything, he was a shadow. Something that chased her. Something that clung to her ankles. Something that contorted its shape to mimic her but couldn’t because it was two-dimensional and she was not.

If anything, he was a lament. A melody that ensnared her legs in mire. A melody that pulled her deeper and deeper into the earth. A melody that could never provide a stable foundation for her because it rippled with every raindrop that struck it.

If anything, he was the moon and she was the sun. The few times he did shine, he shone only because of her. But she didn’t need him to shine. Her light flowed from her spirit, from a well that never ran dry.

How could she be so positive? How could she be so positive after he tried to kill her in that state? After he couldn’t remember anything about it?

“I-I mean, what if—?”

_What if it happens again?_

_What if it's too strong and I can’t come back to my senses?_

_What if it leads me to hurt you, or worse?_

“Don’t worry. It won’t.”

Her forehead touched his.

“And even if it does, I’ll search to the ends of the world until I find the one controlling you. I’ll make them pay tenfold for doing that to you. So, don’t think for a minute I don’t trust you, okay?”

She kissed his nose.

“I wish I could take your nightmares upon myself… I hate how much they scare you. But… I hope you know you don’t have to bear that weight alone. I’m here for you, Taku.”

No… He could never expose her to that world. His nightmares forged a world of betrayal, death, and murder. It would scar her. He would rather stuff the nightmares down and deal with them on his own.

One thing was reassuring, though: they were only nightmares. Calling them frightening would be the understatement of the year, but they were still nightmares. They couldn’t touch the real world. Even if the nightmares plunged him into hell every night, heaven awaited him every morning when he woke up. They couldn’t touch him, or her, or the rest of their day together.

Gods, how late was it? Did they have much of the day left?

Her brows perked. “Do you want to practice together? Maybe it would take your mind off of everything.”

Ha. Maybe it would. He couldn’t argue against that. That, and the sparkles in her eyes.

“Sure. Just… Give me a few minutes to get ready, all right?”

With a nod she pulled away and left the room, feet pattering down the hall.

He sighed and swiped his hair ribbon from the dresser. They were only nightmares… They were only nightmares… No matter how real they felt, they weren’t. Everything was in his head. The demon no longer controlled him. He was going to spend the day with the most beautiful woman in the world. No reason to worry… None at all.

He combed through his hair and tied it into a loose bun. In a matter of minutes, he changed into his go-to outfit for training—blue kimono, beige hakama trousers, brown boots, navy silk scarf. The same outfit he wore the day they won the war, except without all the under armor. Before meeting Kamui outside, he took a final glance into the mirror.

He smiled.

His reflection did the same.

His eyes were light brown.

Not blood-red.

Just the way they were supposed to be.

 

Ugh. Why did it have to be so hot today? It wasn’t supposed to be this hot yet; it was April for crying out loud!

Heat dripped through the cracks in the leaves overhead, and threads of shade snapped and frayed as the sun sat upon its noontime throne. Takumi propped his quiver and practice bow against a log and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. His kimono clung to his skin like a bandage saturated with pus. What the hell was he thinking, wearing long sleeves on a day like this? Maybe if he hadn’t fallen back to sleep and trained in the morning, he actually would’ve had a reason to wear long sleeves! How dumb could he be?!

He loved the sun’s warmth—it was what made Hoshido Hoshido—but sometimes it was too much. Even for him.

To strip or not to strip… A proper prince would frown at the idea and leave his garments on, even if it meant fainting from the heat. After all, it was a prince’s duty to uphold Hoshido’s honor in manner and dress at all times.

Well, screw that! Big Brother could eat those words. The last thing he wanted to do was faint and worry Kamui and fall into more nightmares and miss a day of training and look even more weak and anxious and scared to everybody. Besides, Kamui was the only other person around. She wouldn’t care if he took his shirt off. Heck, she would probably like it. Sure, there was a slim chance of an invader stumbling upon him; but if that happened, he’d give them much more to talk about than seeing Hoshido’s second prince half-naked.

That settled it. He took off his gloves and scarf, then peeled away his kimono and draped it over a log to dry. Perhaps Oboro could wash it later.

_Much better._

He knew he made the right choice when the air kissed his unexposed chest.

Seriously, what was the big deal about stripping down to train? Hinata did it all the time. Even though his behavior sometimes was…questionable at best, Hinata never half-assed anything. How many times had he caught Hinata standing in the middle of wooden dummy remains, melting from the sun and grinning at himself? And not wearing a shirt—or pants?

Shaking his head, he tugged his gloves over his hands once again.

If only he could be like Hinata and stop caring about his outer appearance altogether. If only it were that easy…

He slung his quiver around his shoulder and picked up his bow.

Oh well. He’d just have to hit the bullseye a hundred times in a row and look good doing it, right? Not too hard—especially with Kamui around.

_Steady now…_

With a deep breath, he parted his legs and divided his weight between his feet. When was the last time he practiced archery like this—practiced for the sake of the art and not just for defense? Usually he took Fuujin with him at the crack of dawn and practiced until the target fell apart. Until the target became a knot of straws jutting in every direction. This was a change of pace. This was nice.

Of course, he always would have to keep his defensive skills sharp in case High and Mighty King Leo of Nohr launched a surprise attack. He wouldn’t put it past Leo’s royal ass. All day long Leo could utter words of peace, but his Nohrian blood bellowed threats of chaos. He could never be trusted, no matter how noble his intentions seemed.

Takumi nocked an arrow on the bowstring and fixed his gaze on the target. Was it Leo’s fault though? Was it his fault for being born into that wretched bloodline? Was it his fault his father was a bloodthirsty tyrant? If anything, Leo fought against his father’s plans for conquest. He executed that damned mage Iago in the walls of his own castle. He provided a spell to help Kamui reach the Rainbow Sage and unlock the secrets of her Yato. He didn’t try to stop Kamui from fighting against his father, either.

Leo was a traitor to his own kingdom.

But… Wasn’t that the very reason he couldn’t be trusted?

Another deep breath in, and Takumi raised his bow and grounded his stance. Leo was a reedy little bookworm, but what kind of person was he when he wasn’t hiding behind books? Was he actually a decent person? What kinds of things did he like? How was he handling his rise to kingship?

If Takumi were in Leo’s shoes, he would fall apart. Being forced to become king after losing Big Brother and Sakura? That sounded horrible. No, not just horrible—that sounded impossible. How did Leo hold it together? How was he able to put on a calm face at the peace treaty signing? Wasn’t he struggling under the weight of his people’s needs and his own grief? Unless he lacked the ability to mourn… But he couldn’t be that heartless, could he? Even though he sentenced Kamui to death for siding with Hoshido, he didn’t follow through with it. And didn’t he say something about being jealous of the attention Kamui received from his other siblings?

It sounded all too familiar.

Maybe Leo acted like a jerk because he was hiding behind a mask.

Closing his eyes, Takumi began pushing the bow away from his body and pulling the bowstring back.

Maybe Leo heard voices in his head telling him he wasn’t good enough. That no matter what he did, he would never measure up. Maybe he craved approval from others, yet receiving it made him cringe because it felt undeserved. Maybe his older brother’s sword casted a shadow over him, leading him to practice magic. So he could become the best mage in his kingdom.

So he could become the best at something.

Takumi expanded his chest, drew the bow to its full length.

Maybe they weren’t so different, after all.

Deep breath in… Deep breath out…

Ha, what was he supposed to do now? Drop everything, march straight to Nohr, and become best friends with Leo? Hell, no; not a chance. But… If they shared similar struggles… Maybe it would open the door to building mutual trust… And that would open the door to healing between both kingdoms. Sure, it would take a while, but every little bit counted, right? Especially if every little bit staved off threats of invasion.

Deep breath in… Deep breath out…

But none of that mattered right this minute. Right now, the only thing that mattered was connecting the arrowhead with the target. He had all afternoon to think about Leo’s next move in this ongoing game of politics.

_C’mon, Takumi. Focus._

In… Out… In… Out…

His bow wasn’t a tool of death. It was an extension of himself—an extension of not only his body but also his will, his spirit. The arrow represented truth, and the target represented the culmination of every fear, every insecurity, every lie that ever took root in his mind. Not measuring up to his siblings. Failing to grow into the prince the townspeople needed. Showing too much emotion. Not showing enough emotion. Kamui rejecting him. Kamui leaving him. Dying early. Everybody forgetting about him.

Worthless. Good for nothing. Unloved.

In… Out… In… Out…

The target stood twenty jo away and four shaku off the ground, between the black pine on the left and the white pine on the right. Paralyzed in the face of truth. Begging to be struck.

His arms bickered from reining in the bowstring. A bud of pain blossomed in the space between his eyes, stretched its vines across his forehead. Sweat welled from every pore and ran down his neck, his shoulders, his chest, his back, every patch of skin it could touch.

One arrow, and all the lies would uproot and scatter to the wind.

In…

Out…

In…

He released the bowstring and paused.

_Fwip!_

The arrow cut through the air…flew farther and farther away…closer and closer to the target…until—

_Thwack!_

Out…

He lowered the bow to his side and smiled. Good. A clean shot. Just as expected. He definitely wasn’t the best archer in the world, but by no means was he a pushover. Now to assess the shot, make adjustments, and repeat it ninety-nine more times.

He opened his eyes. Squinted against the sun streaming through the leaves. Weird. Where was the target? It should’ve been—

His heart froze in his mouth.

_No._

Between the black and white pines, the arrow didn’t pierce the target.

_Bu-bump…_

Between black and white, the arrow pierced a curtain of long white hair.

_Bu-bump._

A curtain of long white hair fluttering to the ground.

_Bu-bump._

Long white hair engulfed by purple flames.

_Kamui._

How? How could this happen? How could he let this happen? How could he be so careless? How could he? How? How?

“How…?”

_Bu-bump, bu-bump, bu-bump, bu-bump—_

Run _._

He sprinted.

Faster, faster, faster he willed his legs to move; harder, harder, harder his boots thudded against the dirt.

_Bu-bump, bu-bump, bu-bump, bu-bump—_

The world smeared into a brown blur spinning around an axis of white and red. Black and white ashes swirled in his periphery. Tears ignited in his eyes.

_Kamui._

His beloved, his sunrise… She was hurt because of him.

_Save her. Save Kamui._

His beloved, his sunrise… She was dying because of him.

_All your fault… This is all your fault! ALL YOUR FAULT!_

Traitor. Murderer. Demon.

_Bu-bump-bu-bump-bu-bump-bu-bump—_

Not fast enough. Not enough air. Not enough blood. Blood everywhere. Too hot. Heart racing. Head throbbing. Ashes caving in.

_Kamui…_

Legs failing. Feet slipping. Body falling. So tired… So…heavy… Black…and…white…everywhere…

Save…her…

_Ka…mui…_

Save…

Her…

Betray…

Kill…

Murder…

Her…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: "Taku" in Japanese has a lot of different meanings. A few of these include "home", "husband", and "to burn." Hmm...
> 
> On an unrelated note, I hid a subtle reference to a different game in this chapter. Kudos to those who were able to find it! c:
> 
> Chapter 5 next Friday!


	5. Silentium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As we approach the end of this story, I would like to say thank you to everybody who has been reading it up to this point. <3 I hope it has touched you in some of the ways that it has touched me!

  **V.** **Silentium**

 

_Shoji screens thrown shut. Staggered footsteps across tatami._

_“Damn it… Not now… M-my head… The pain… The pain is—”_

_Gloved palms flying up to cradle a pulsating skull. Gloved fingers clawing into a disheveled ponytail._

_“It hurts… A-ah, it hurts! My head, it hurts!”_

_Tears slicing across pale cheeks. Bone-white silence splattered black by broken sobs._

_“When will these headaches stop… When will this pain go away…”_

_Bloodshot eyes meeting a mirror. Crimson eyes staring back. Empty. Forlorn. Hopeless._

_“Please… I’ll do anything… I’ll do anything to…t-to make it stop…”_

_An unanswered plea. A toxic notion._

_“Y-yes… I-if I kill her… Surely, this pain… This pain…will…”_

 

His eyelids cracked open. Black blotches gave way to white wisps, and white wisps gave way to splotches of color.

Too much color.

He closed his eyes again. Was it time to get up already? Couldn’t he have just five more minutes?

Wait… Where was he? Leaves rustled above his head, birds twittered to his right, and pulses of wind struck his chest from the left. His head also ached. Hell, his whole body ached.

He was outside somewhere, but where? The woods?

Yeah, right… The woods.

The woods…

The woods…

The woods.

_Kamui._

Her name shot a burst of adrenaline through his veins, making his eyes snap open, stomach muscles tighten, and arms flex to push his ache-ridden body off the ground. The adrenaline soon disappeared, however, when a soft hand cupped his shoulder.

“It’s okay… It’s okay… Just relax, my love.”

Relax… Yes, relaxing sounded like a nice idea.

He lay back down and found his beloved kneeling on his left side, holding a short festal in her left hand. A pair of large ink-colored wings curled around her shoulders.

“Wh… What happened?”

“You passed out.” A breathy sigh escaped her lips as she extended the festal over his forehead. “I think it might’ve been from the heat.”

“Really? H-how long was I—?”

“A few minutes. I was—”

“Only a few minutes? That’s it?”

“Don’t say ‘only a few minutes,’ Takumi! A few minutes is a long time! I was getting really worried about you, you know…”

“Y-you were?”

“Of course I was! Why would you ever doubt that?”

“Oh. No reason.”

Great. Exactly what he wanted to avoid—fainting and worrying Kamui. At least this day couldn’t get much worse. Ugh.

He combed his fingers through his bangs and shook his head. “How’d you know I fainted, anyway?”

She set the festal down and folded her hands in her lap. “I heard you start sprinting behind me. I turned around to see what was going on, but that’s when I saw you lying on the ground.”

He propped himself up on his elbows. “How in the world could you hear me or see me? Our targets weren’t even that close!”

Dimples crept onto her cheeks as she stretched her wings out. “Remember, Taku; I’m part dragon. I have better senses than the normal person.”

Right. As if her wings weren’t an obvious enough sign. Sometimes it was hard to remember that, since she didn’t really need to transform anymore.

“During the war, I hated these senses. I could hear every sword clash and every cry on the battlefield. I could see the blood staining your clothes and smell the blood staining my hands.”

Kamui flexed her wings behind herself.

“But now, I love them. My ears let me hear you breathing next to me in bed. My eyes let me see every scar on your body.”

Humming, she tapped a few scars etched into his bicep and batted her eyelashes. Was this a ploy to entice him? Well, big deal! Those scars were old news, anyway!

“And they’re beautiful. All of your scars are beautiful. You know why?”

She placed a nail under his right collarbone and began tracing a line toward his left hip.

_Oh, gods._

Sparks ignited in his cheeks. She may as well have been unraveling his skin and exposing his balls to the whole world. His toes curled and flexed as her nail passed over his stomach. A line of sweat outlined his hairline.

“Because each of them tells a story about you. They say you’re a survivor. A fighter. I’ll never forget how you jumped between me and that mercenary in Cheve…”

“Y-yeah, that was pretty cool, wasn’t it?”

_Shouldn’t we do this in the privacy of our bedroom? Not out in the open where anybody and everybody can see us? This feels wonderful, but—!_

“No, Takumi; that was reckless. You could’ve died! I could’ve lost you forever on that day!”

Thin silver scales flashed and ebbed away around her eyes.

“What I’ll never forget is what happened after. Even though you were hurting… Even though you were dying, you still fought back. Even though you couldn’t use your bow, you fought to shield me with your body.”

When her nail reached his hip, she walked her fingers in the other direction. With every stroke of her fingertips across his skin, he lost himself more in her voice.

“That’s what I think of when I see this scar. I see reckless love that poured out to protect me when I failed to protect myself.”

A smile tugged at his lips.

“Well, that’s good…because I wear this scar with pride.”

It was a scar that cried her name. A scar that screamed death but whispered life.

One of his most prized possessions, forever imprinted on his skin.

An emblem of love.

Ha. That sounded so cheesy. But it was the truth.

“A-anyway…” He cleared his throat. “Shouldn’t we get back to tr—?”

“‘We’?” Her wings receded into her back. “No, mister; the only thing you should do right now is rest.”

Rest? Rest was for the weak! He jumped to his feet and placed his hands on his hips. That would show her!

“I-I don’t need any rest! Just watch—”

Before he could finish his thought, he sank to a knee, pressing a hand against the dirt to catch his balance.

So much for that idea.

Kamui leapt to his backside and grabbed hold of his shoulders. “Yes, you do! Don’t push yourself like this… You’ll hurt yourself even more!”

The ground wobbled back and forth, almost as if the gods were spinning and balancing the whole forest on a stick. Blood roared in his ears. Maybe she was right.

With gentle tugs Kamui guided him to a maple tree—a small one, but one large enough to support his weight as he rested against the trunk.

“Oh… I know! How about you watch me train? You could give me some tips on how to improve my technique, if you’d like.”

All he wanted to do was rebel and pick up his bow, but his body pleaded otherwise.

“All right, fine. But I’m not going to go easy on you. Make one tiny slip-up, and you won’t hear the end of it from me!”

What an empty threat. The gods knew how blessed she was with the bow.

She chuckled and rose from the ground. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you down.”

She was right. She wouldn’t.

She gathered up her bow and quiver and threw a glance over her shoulder. “I forgot to say this, but before you fainted you shot your target right in the center of the bullseye.” With a tilt of her head, she winked. “So, I think it’s okay if you don’t train today.”

His eyes found the target after searching for a few seconds. Sure enough, a single arrow pierced the target’s center.

Exactly where it was supposed to be.

“…If you say so.”

Maybe that was what he needed all along. Not a distraction, but some time to stop thinking about everything altogether. Time to let all the negative thoughts, all the negative images come and go as they pleased and entertain none of them.

With a skip Kamui galloped away, picking up the target as she passed by it. Her hair bobbed up and down, swished all around her shoulders as she searched for a new place to rest the target. Unblemished. Pure white.

Just like her soul.

How could she have so much faith in others? How could she have so much faith in others when her only father figure imprisoned her in a tower as a little girl and didn’t give her the time of day?

If he’d known Kamui was alive all of those years, he would’ve given everything to bring her back. To bring her back and dry the tears Mother cried all the time, alone. He should’ve listened to Big Brother and Big Sister. They always knew she was alive, but he refused to believe it. Not after what they did to Father.

How did Kamui learn to trust others? How did she learn to trust others when all she knew was isolation? How did she learn to trust others when the only world she knew was inside of her chamber? If he’d been in her position, he would’ve broken out, ran away, started over as a thief—even if the king pursued him for the rest of his life. What value did life have without companionship? What value did life have when the world was the size of a bedroom?

What value did life have without love?

And how did Kamui learn to love others in that loveless prison?

She trotted back to the tree and pulled from her quiver an arrow, nocking it in its rightful place. “I hope you’re watching, Taku! I’m going to hit the bullseye just like you!”

“Oh, really? We’ll see about that when you actually make the shot!”

Yes, really.

She was like a child in a lot of ways. Confident. Stubborn. If the world told her she couldn’t do something, she proved the world wrong. If the world kicked her down, she got right back up.

She was curious—about everything. Sometimes, all it took was one look at the sky for the clouds to capture her in wonder. Sometimes, all it took was one look at the sun shining on the grass to widen her eyes and part her lips.

And she was loving; so unbelievably loving.

Did her Nohrian siblings teach her how to love like that? Her retainers? Both?

Maybe Nohrians weren’t so bad after all…

He snorted at that one. What a joke. The only good Nohrians were the ones who refused to bow to the monster who had designated himself as their king. That so-called king was the one who stole Father away without a shred of guilt. That beast was the one who stole Kamui away to use as a pawn in his grand scheme of conquest. That oversized salamander was the one who almost stole Kamui away a second time—

“Takumi, did you see that?! I hit the bullseye on my first try!”

He released a held breath. Thank the gods Kamui shared no blood with that monster. Thank the gods Kamui was able to see through that mad tyrant’s facade.

“Heh. Yep, I saw it. Now hit it ten times in a row, and then you’ll earn the Takumi seal of approval.”

He didn’t see it, but he didn’t need to see it. He knew the arrow would hit the bullseye before she released the bowstring. Everything came down to stance. If one didn’t raise their arms high enough or bend their knees deep enough or spread their feet wide enough, then the entire shot was lost. No amount of staring at the target could redeem bad posture.

Without a word, she nocked another arrow and took a stance.

“Hey, what are you doing? Don’t grip the arrow that hard! And turn your body five more degrees toward the target!”

“Oh, hush! I was going to do that before you broke my concentration!”

“Who was the one who asked for tips? Hmm?”

Her arms dropped to her sides, and she met his smirk with a red-cheeked pout. Just like a child.

She turned on her heels, shaking her head, and took up her stance again. “Y-you’re right. I’m sorry. You were the one who first taught me how to shoot a bow. I shouldn’t be so defensive.”

A hint of a smile graced her lips.

She was just like a child, but she had the elegance of a woman too. She was always—well, mostly always—kind, polite, and poised, even when others didn’t reciprocate the same warmth to her. But Kamui was more than a childlike woman—she was a free spirit guided by passion and love. Everything she did was for another person’s sake. Not to win anybody’s approval, but to love that person from the inside out. To restore some lost piece of their soul.

Like his.

Gods… Kamui would make a great mother someday.

A tickle fluttered in his chest. Kamui becoming a mother and him becoming a father… Creating a new life with her… Showing their own little boy or little girl the world and lavishing them in love… It was too sweet a dream.

And if Kamui never returned to Hoshido, none of it would ever be possible.

Ha. Fate was a funny thing.

How would’ve life turned out if she had decided to stay in Nohr? It would’ve been the ultimate act of betrayal, for sure—against his family, against him. Back then, he was weak. He wouldn’t have been strong enough to accept that kind of rejection. Even when she returned home, he had been weak—weak enough to allow a demon to possess him. But it was her who saved him from the demon’s jaws when it threatened to consume him on the steps of the Grand Staircase. It was her who believed in him when he couldn’t believe in himself.

_“I believe in you, Takumi. I know the real you is still in there.”_

She rewrote his fate.

And by the gods above, he would protect her from the demon, no matter where fate chose to lead them.

Yes.

He would protect his sunrise, at all costs.

 

The thought paced back and forth in the halls of his mind for who knew how long. Hours? Probably hours, since the sun’s light was beginning to weave around the tree trunks instead of falling through the canopy.

“Takumi, is everything okay? You haven’t said anything in a while.”

He blinked a few times. Was he really staring at his feet the whole time she was practicing?

Damn it. Damn it all.

Pressing his back into the tree trunk, he stretched his legs out then crossed them. “Y-yeah… Everything’s fine. I just haven’t had much to comment on. You’re really amazing at archery, you know that?”

_Bu-bump. Bu-bump. Bu-bump._

He forced a smile through wooden lips. Even though she was amazing at archery, he still had to protect her, no matter what.

Giggling, she bobbed up and down on her toes. “Aww! Thanks, Taku! But it’s only because I have such an amazing teacher.”

Just like a child. Just like a child oblivious to the demon preying upon her.

_Protect her. Protect Kamui._

But how? How could he protect her if the demon expelled him from his head? How could he protect her if the demon sealed his soul in eternal darkness?

There had to be another way. Another way to prevent that fate from becoming a reality. Was he overthinking this? Was there actually a possibility the demon was still swimming around in his head? Or was the only demon tormenting him now his worries about the demon tormenting her?

Did the nightmares actually mean anything? Or were those fruits of his worries too? Reliving the nightmare about the demon dragging him through the forest of Mokushu almost every night didn’t help at all, either.

Damn it. What the hell was he supposed to do? How the hell was he supposed to protect her if he couldn’t—?

“Taku? Are you sure nothing’s wrong? You usually try to deny me saying you’re amazing…”

_Wait. Maybe…_

Maybe he wasn’t supposed to do anything.

Maybe…she was.

He pushed himself off the ground, connected his eyes with her cherry-red ones.

She was like a child, but she was also a woman who knew how to fight—a woman who knew how to hold her own in battle. She was a warrior who showed mercy to her opponents but didn’t hesitate to cut them down if it stopped them from spilling her loved ones’ blood.

If that fate ever did become a reality, she would be okay. She would never go down without putting up a fight first.

“Taku?”

_Bu-bump. Bu-bump. Bu-bump._

“I… I need you to close your eyes for a second.”

“Oh!” She clasped her hands behind her back and drew circles in the dirt with her toes. “O-of course!”

When she closed her eyes, the creases in her forehead smoothed out and the seeds of rosiness in her cheeks bloomed. She shifted her weight from side to side like a sailboat rocking upon gray ocean waves and drifting toward paradise.

Gods, she was too adorable for her own good. Could she make this any harder?

Well, the only thing he could do now was move forward, one step at a time.

So, he did exactly that. He took one step toward her…and another…and another…until he stood within arm’s reach of her side.

His heart throbbed in his throat. His fingers fidgeted and his knees locked. Was it too late to back out? Was it too late to turn around, go home, and pretend—

No.

He would not pretend the demon didn’t exist. Even if the demon no longer trapped him in its palm, he would rather bet on the grain of a possibility that it did instead of the sea of a possibility that it didn’t. Too much was at stake to take any chances.

“Don’t open your eyes until I tell you to, all right?”

She nodded with so much energy her whole body shook. “Okay!”

_Bu-bump. Bu-bump. Bu-bump._

There she stood, so blissfully unaware. Unaware of the sand coating his tongue, unaware of the paste coating his lungs… Unaware of the darkness slithering through his veins.

_Keep moving forward._

He picked at the cuffs of his gloves and pried them off, let them fall by his feet. He could come back later to retrieve them. No one else was around to steal them anyway.

One hand went to her upper back; goosebumps dotted his arms as his fingers slid into the grooves between her shoulder blades. His other hand cupped the insides of her knees, and with a deep breath, he tipped her back and scooped her up.

Now, there really was no turning back. All he could do was continue moving forward from here.

“W-whoa!” The light red tint dusting her cheeks grew into a full-blown scarlet, arcing over her crinkled nose. She shook her head and laughed. “I’m sorry, I… That just caught me off guard! I’m glad you’re feeling better though.” Her cheekbones softened, and she folded her hands over her stomach. “I can’t wait to see where you’re going to take me, my sweet prince.”

“D-don’t worry. You’ll find out soon enough.”

He cradled her body close to his still-bare chest and followed the dirt path to the edge of the forest. The swishing of grass replaced the crunching of leaves underfoot, and the sky unfolded all around him—a deep cerulean cloth embellished by white puffs veiling the sun. His legs bickered as he began marching uphill with his sweet princess.

Gods, could he do this? Was he selfish to ask such a thing from her?

_Keep moving forward._

When he reached the top of the hill, he set her in the shade of the tree and glanced upward. Flowers of all colors from white to pink lined the limbs. Their petals sang and danced in the wind, lilted as the breeze combed through the branches. Just a few days ago, most of the flowers were afraid to open up to the world, opting to hide in the safety of their buds instead. Maybe they needed the sun’s extra heat to help shed their doubts and come into full bloom.

Like the sakura flowers, he, too, would bloom. He would shed his doubts and emerge from the bud of fear in which he encased himself.

His attention returned to Kamui, reclining against the lone sakura tree’s trunk.

“You can open your eyes now.”

_For you, my beloved, I will bloom. I will bloom against a sky of fire, even if it means I will wither away._

His beloved’s eyes fluttered open, and a few seconds later she sprang to her feet, eyes wide, lips parted, drinking in the cloud of petals above her head.

“Wow, Takumi; look at the tree—it finally bloomed! It looks so beautiful!” She skipped around the tree once, keeping her eyes pinned to the petals. “For as long as I live, I don’t think I could ever get tired of this sight.”

“Heh, it is beautiful, isn’t it? But… But it… N-none of these flowers are as beautiful as you.”

_Bu-bump, bu-bump, bu-bump, bu-bump—_

_You’ve got this, Takumi. Keep moving forward._

Before she could respond, he stepped forward and caught her soft, delicate hands in his callused, scarred ones.

“I… I love you, Kamui. I love you more than anything else in the whole world. Y-you know that, right?”

“What?” Kamui’s brow furrowed, yet against all odds she chuckled. “What kind of question is that? Of course I know you love me, Taku.”

Now marked the moment of truth. Would the summit of this mountain greet him with a bonfire burning against a clear sky? Or would it greet him with an ice storm that would slice his heart apart?

“If…”

Deep breath in… Deep breath out…

He buried his ice pick into the edge of the summit, stared into the depths of her eyes.

“I-if there were another world in which I raised a hand against you… At that time, kill me to stop me.”

If love was any color, it was red. It was the color of the morning sun pushing against the night to bring light to the world. It was the color of blood running from a scarred heart to protect others.

Love was the color of two cherries flecked with dew, hanging in balance over spreading flames.

“Promise me you’ll definitely do that.”

The air grew damp with his breathing and her silence.

_Bu-bump. Bu-bump. Bu-bump._

She blinked. And blinked. And blinked. But it didn’t stop the dew from freezing around the cherries. It didn’t stop the flames from shielding the cherries behind molten walls of steel.

She blinked, and the blood burning her cheeks receded, leaving frigid white in its place. The ridges between her eyebrows deepened. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and her jaw tightened, quivering against the frame of her swaying white hair.

She blinked, and a single tear tricked down the side of her nose.

Scaly fingers tore away from callused fingers. A hardened palm lashed across his face, throwing his head to the side, shattering the silence strangling them both.

“You… You idiot!”

She bared fangs. Draconic fangs. Clenched fists against trembling legs.

_Bu-bump. Bu-bump. Bu-bump._

He didn’t place his fingers against his pulsating cheek. He didn’t open his mouth to fling heated words at her, either. All he did was search for her heart amidst the pain masking her irises, even as the summit’s ice storm ripped his own heart to pieces.

It was all he could do. All he could do to prevent numbness from sucking him into its never-ending vortex.

“How could you…!”

Blood dripped from her hands. Tears dripped from her chin.

“How could you ever expect me to keep a promise like that?!”

Wings protruded from her back, and she slapped them against the ground to propel herself into the air, away from the sakura tree, away from the forest, away from him.

“Kamui, wait—!”

Her frame became smaller and smaller as she soared into the clouds, farther and farther away.

Away from him.

Because of him.

_Please… Don’t leave me._

 

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. He drifted from place to place and accomplished nothing of real significance—except forcing some miso soup into his shriveled stomach at Oboro’s demand. But not even miso was enough to satiate the loneliness stirring in his soul.

For the first time after marrying Kamui, he was alone. Completely and utterly alone, trapped inside his inner fortress with the key in hand. Trapped inside with negative thoughts tugging at his sleeves, running amok like imps and scribbling gray lines over every trace of color on the walls.

He deserved it. He deserved it for being selfish. For being an idiot. For being a selfish idiot.

He didn’t deserve to see the vibrant purple of the wisteria flowers weaving around the planks of the castle garden pergolas. He didn’t deserve to see the eye-popping yellow of the tulips lining the cobblestone walkways, or the mellow blue of the nemophilas bowing to the fiery red sun evading the rising moon.

All he deserved to see was gray. All he deserved to hear, feel, smell, and taste was gray. He didn’t deserve to hear the chirping of crickets, or the buzzing of fireflies, or the murmuring of the pond in front of him. He didn’t deserve to feel the sturdiness of the wooden pier he was sitting on, or the warmth of the sun shining on his face, or the cool of the water on his toes. He didn’t deserve to smell the sweet perfume emitted by the surrounding pine trees or taste the ripened strawberries growing on their vines.

All he deserved to experience was gray. A lonely gray existence because he hurt the one he loved the most.

Kamui was a forgiving person, but was she willing to forgive him? Was she willing to forgive him for being an insensitive bastard who didn’t think twice about her feelings?

_What is wrong with me?_

That thought repeated its dirge for hours with no coda.

What is wrong with me?

He was a man driven by fear. Everything he did was out of fear of losing something or someone valuable to him. When did he ever place the feelings of others above his own—above his own fear?

He was selfish. He was a fearful, selfish, stupid man who deserved nothing more than a life shrouded in gray.

With clammy hands and slumped shoulders, he twisted the fabric by his knees. He ran out of tears to cry a while ago. All that was left for him was to stuff the rest of his pain inside so nobody else would have to see it or deal with it.

“Takumi?”

A soft voice settled over the water. The planks of the pier creaked under lithe footsteps, and the scent of tea leaves enveloped him like a cloak.

Was his heart playing tricks on him? It was a fitting punishment—being reminded of the one he hurt with his own selfish fear.

His beloved sat on his left side and dipped her toes into the water next to his. “Takumi… Do you mind if I join you?”

Did he? Did he mind her sitting there? In the deepest part of his heart, he wanted her there, but in his head, he knew he didn’t deserve her company.

Silence was the only answer he could provide to her question.

So, they sat in silence next to each other, watching the sun fall closer and closer to the treetops. He dared not glance in her direction—he was but an artisan clothed in sin, and she was a divine spirit clothed in human flesh.

Was he selfish for enjoying her presence? Was he selfish for enjoying her presence when he did everything to not deserve it?

Why was she doing this?

“Takumi, I… I’m sorry about how I treated you this afternoon.”

Her words incised the air like a double-edged blade, cutting his heart in two at the same time.

_What?_

He tore his gaze from the sky and planted it on the side of her face. One lone dimple accompanied her smile, which appeared just as distant as the setting sun.

She was smiling? But why? Why in the world was she smiling?

“It wasn’t right of me to hit you at the sakura tree.” She blinked and turned toward him, eyes stilling the two halves of his heart in his chest. “When you asked me to keep that promise, it…it scared me. I couldn’t keep my emotions in control at the time, so I did what I thought best—I ran away. I ran away to protect you from myself. But it was wrong… It was so wrong of me to leave you standing there all by yourself.”

Her eyes fell away from his, and she sighed. “I hate thinking about a future without you in it. I hate the thought of me killing you.”

He hated thinking about a future without her in it. He hated the thought of him killing her.

Their thoughts echoed one another like a duet performed on dull keys and well-worn strings.

He reached over and placed a hand on top of her thigh.

“But…”

She reached over and placed a hand on top of his, ran her thumb over his wrist.

“You would never ask me to do anything without a good reason. I can’t imagine it was easy to entrust that promise to me…especially considering how I reacted…”

She paused, then lifted her head to meet his eyes again. “Taku, even if I don’t understand why you asked me to keep that promise, I promise I will honor it. Your wishes mean much more to me than my desires. If doing that would help ease your mind or put an end to the nightmares, then I will fight to keep that promise as long as we’re together. I trust you, my love.”

_I trust you, my love._

Those words resonated in the caverns of his soul long after she spoke them.

_I trust you._

Those words tied a scarlet cord between his heart and hers that would hold them together for all of eternity.

_Trust you._

Those words narrowed the space between his face and hers as she leaned into him and he leaned into her.

_You._

That word sealed their lips together in a dance; a mystical dance in which both of their hearts beat at the same tempo, both of their bodies swayed to the same rhythm, and both of their souls sang the same aria. It was a dance that guided his key to the lock of his fortress, stripped away the gray, and swept him away in a coursing river—one that had no end, whipped him around each bend, and splashed its color against the banks, the trees, the animals, the sky, everything within its reach.

Her lips fit around his like a pair of arms made to caress only one other pair. They took him on a journey to worlds unknown… Worlds ravaged by war; worlds blessed with peace; worlds wracked with bloodshed; worlds mended by hope… And both of them stood at the center of every single one, hand in hand, showered in the light of the stars.

With a final chord, their song ended, and their lips parted ever so slightly, leaving them frozen in the warmth of their mingling breaths and thrumming hearts.

“Th-thank you, Kamui. You don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that.”

No matter where the waters of fate chose to flow, she would be okay. Even if the demon clawed its way between him and her in the next minute, she would stay true to her word and keep her promise.

She would live. And that was all that mattered in the end.

Once again, silence fell over them—a stillness akin to the pause between the end of a melody and the beginning of another. Their noses brushed past each other as they pulled apart, and their toes intertwined underwater as they turned to continue following the sun’s descent.

Now, the sun was tangled in the boughs of the pines. Its light carved lines of yellow, orange, and red into the silhouetted trunks, and it stained the indigo sky with streaks of pink and purple. Such a mesmerizing sunset… But it wasn’t nearly as mesmerizing as the sunrise.

His sunrise.

Ha. How funny it was. How funny, that the sunset and the sunrise could exist in the same place at the same time. How funny, that the sunset and the sunrise depended on one another to survive.

Takumi grabbed Kamui’s hand. His heart skipped a beat at how her fingers filled the spaces between his.

“It sure is a beautiful one tonight, isn’t it?”

“It is…” She rested her head on his shoulder and swung a leg through the sun-soaked water. Droplets rolled off her pointed toes. “But it’s not as beautiful as you.”

“Hey.” He chuckled. “That’s my line.”

If she was the sunrise, he was the sunset. He was the one who would delve into the earth to preserve the light, and she was the one who would unearth the light to banish the night.

He kissed the crown of her head and squeezed her hand. “I love you, Kamui.”

She looked up, and the sun’s final rays of light flooded the cracks in her cherry-red eyes.

“I love you too, Taku. Forever and always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As some of you probably have noticed, I have been sprinkling little headcanons throughout this story. One of them encompasses Kamui's dragon form. By the end of the war, Kamui has tight control over her draconic senses. As long as she's in a stable state of mind, she can will specific parts of her dragon form into existence, like her wings or tail. On the other hand, when her emotions (both positive and negative) reach extremes... It's a completely different story. (Also, when she taps into her dragon form, her desire for Takumi becomes a little more...self-serving. She focuses more on what she wants, compared to her normal self who always places his desires over hers.)
> 
> Another explanation/headcanon: The opening scene is meant to be a dream sequence that occurs when Takumi's in syncope. Given the nature and frequency of his nightmares, he developed excellent dream recall over time and can remember more details about his nightmares than an average person. However, he can't remember anything from the opening sequence because everything happened within minutes of time. So... Let's call that opening sequence a subliminal nightmare. c;
> 
> Although only one chapter remains, we are far from the end of this story. Please look forward to the finale next Friday!


	6. Aurora

  **VI.** **Aurora**

 

He couldn’t remember anything.

 …Scratch that. He could remember a lot of things, like who he was and where he was, but why was he here?

Everywhere he turned light greeted him. Not the kind that banishes the darkness from its presence, but the kind that welcomes it with open arms—the kind that caresses, consoles, cleanses the most blighted of souls and restores them to their original, unadulterated states.

Light spilled from the edge of the horizon like milk and lapped at his feet. He stretched his legs out, pressed his back into the lone sakura tree’s trunk.

_Oh. I guess I missed the sunrise again._

Right. He came out here to practice like any other morning. Fuujin was stretched across his thighs, but only now did he register its weight sinking into his skin.

He glanced up at the branches. Each petal resembled a memory of some sort. Some petals clung onto the outermost branches and fluttered in the light, while other petals hid within the innermost branches and knew only darkness. Some petals were larger and wore shades of pink and red, while other petals were smaller and wore shades of brown and gray. Some petals sang sweet notes that soothed the nose, while other petals dared not whisper so much as one word.

A lot of memories clung to this tree. Memories of climbing to the top and pretending to be a kinshi. Memories of watching Mother waltz with Fuujin at dawn. Memories of watching Father dance with Raijinto at dusk. Memories of Kamui catching him under the noontime sun. Memories of confessing his love for Kamui under the full moon.

And now, memories of missing the sunrise because he fell asleep after practice.

Oh well. There was always tomorrow morning. He couldn’t complain; that was the best sleep he’d gotten in years. Not a single nightmare jolted him awake screaming in bloody murder.

When was the last time he slept through the night without any interruptions? He couldn’t remember.

It was a miracle.

He brushed the tips of the grass at his sides and closed his eyes. For once in his life, he felt at peace. At peace with himself, at peace with his accomplishments… For once in his life, there was no voice telling him he didn’t measure up or he needed to prove his worth to earn others’ love.

For once in his life, he actually liked who he was. He was far from perfect, but he didn’t need to be perfect. Perfection wasn’t a requirement for love and acceptance from others, especially when others were just as flawed as him.

Nothing could make this morning any better.

“Takumi! Takumi!”

Nothing, except his beloved calling his name upon the wind.

Tucking Fuujin under his arm, he stood up and smiled. Was this what heaven was like? At the bottom of the hill, her long white hair bounced up and down as she ran closer to the tree. The skirt of her dress billowed around her ankles like a boat sail, and the color of her dress was…black?

Black? She was wearing black? Did something happen? No one was gravely injured, to his knowledge.

Maybe she was thinking about her older brother and younger sister in Nohr? A lot of time did pass since the end of the war. Apparently, Prince Xander was a lot like Big Brother, and Princess Elise was the polar opposite of Sakura. Kamui didn’t talk about them a lot, but when she did, a spark always ignited in her eyes. No wonder… They were her only sources of light for all the years she was imprisoned in that dark tower, even if they were Nohrian.

Why was she wearing a black dress though?

“Takumi!”

Well, even if she was wearing a black dress, she still looked beautiful.

“Hi, Kamui!”

He tried to prevent his smile from growing into a grin, but he failed. How could he when everything about this morning was perfect?

“Nice day out, h-huh?!”

Kamui lunged at him, flung her arms around his waist, buried her face in his scarf. Her breath came out in ragged puffs that splatted against his chest, and her fingers curled around his back.

He should’ve known. He really should’ve known. Kamui began her morning thinking about them. Yearning for them. As if her clothing wasn’t an obvious enough sign. Gods, how stupid could he be?

With his free hand, he reached around and drew circles between her shoulder blades, over and over again.

“Takumi… Oh, gods, T-Takumi… I’m so glad you’re all right… I-I was so scared… I… I thought I lost you!”

_Lost…me? But weren’t you…?_

She was shaking like mad. Like a candle suffocating in a pillar of ice. Except her hands at his back radiated the warmth of a thousand torches.

“Kamui… Kamui, hey. Enough of that… I’m right here.” He planted a kiss on the crown of her head. “I’m not going anywhere. You know I always come out here to train before the sun rises.”

How long ago did he start that habit? When he abandoned the katana for the yumi? After Big Brother shamed him for the millionth time in swordplay?

“Y-you do?”

_What?_

“Uh, yeah? We even came out here together yesterday…”

_C’mon. You remember that, don’t you? You’re just messing with me._

“We did? But I was…”

_Don’t you remember?_

“I-I was—”

_Don’t you?_

No words. Only sobs.

“Oh, gods, Takumi… I’m sorry… I-I’m so sorry for everything—”

What was she saying?

“I’m sorry for every time I hurt you with my sword a-and my words.”

_But you never hurt me. Well, on purpose, at least. There was that one time you accidentally swung your shinai into my shin—_

“I’m sorry for turning my back on you when you needed me most.”

_But… You’ve always been there for—!_

“I’m sorry for…for betraying you.”

_Betrayal…_

That word again. It was like a knife twisting within a rotten peach, spilling its innards all over the ground.

“Hold on, Kamui. You’ve never betrayed me.”

She was kidding, right?

“What about all the times you begged me to teach you archery?”

This was just another dream turned into nightmare, right?

“What about all the times you’ve calmed me down when I woke up crying in the middle of the night?”

He would soon wake up, and everything would make sense again.

“What about all the times you caught me when I fell out of this tree as a kid?”

Right?

“But, Takumi…” She took a step back. Frost-colored scales framed her bloodshot eyes. Strands of hair clung to patches of tears and snot on her blotched cheeks. “I-I couldn’t catch you in time; it’s my fault you’re—!”

“What are you talking about, Kamui? What’s gotten into you?”

Why couldn’t his words reach her? Who was the unlucky bastard who sealed her memories?

Whoever they were, they would pay tenfold—no, a hundredfold—for doing that to her. He would not rest until he found the one responsible and made them write their atonement in their own blood.

“The wall… The Great Wall… I… I couldn’t save you. You fell, and…”

She closed her eyes; her eyebrows tied together in a tight knot.

“…All I could do was watch.”

Her words left her lips as a whisper and entered his ears as a screech.

_Couldn’t save me?_

Takumi stumbled back.

_Am I…?_

No.

_Is she also…?_

Not her.

“W-why are you here?”

Anybody but her.

The scales on her face receded, and she cast her gaze down the hill. “Because I was naïve. I thought I could end the war within Nohr’s borders, but all I’ve done is reap nothing but despair.”

End the war? Within Nohr’s borders? Didn’t she join forces with Hoshido? Didn’t the war already end—end in victory for Hoshido?

“No, I don’t care about that.” That was a huge lie, but now wasn’t the time to answer those questions. Instead, he focused on one. “I want to know who sent you here.”

Kamui didn’t answer. Rather, she flinched, just like a child. Just like a child expecting disapproval from their mother or father for doing something wrong. On the outside, she showed no signs of emotion, but on the inside…she was battling something, something preventing the truth from leaving her mind. And like him, a thick wall separated the two worlds from one another. She was more liberal with keeping the door open and inviting others inside, though.

Only this time, the door to her inner fortress was closed to all. Including him.

Still, he had to try. He had to try knocking on that door, just like she had knocked on the door of his inner fortress months ago.

“Please, Kamui… I need to know.”

Whatever the answer was, he could deal with it. He had to, for her sake.

She pressed a hand against her forehead and shook her head. “Takumi, I… I don’t know if I…”

_Please, Kamui._

Though hesitant, he stepped forward.

_Please let me inside._

He reached for her hand and slid his fingers in the space between her palm and forehead.

_Please let me fight what’s troubling you._

He moved her hand away, and his eyes widened.

“No…”

A wound. A wound shaped like a cross between her eyes, hiding under her bangs. It glistened purple and black in the light, and the skin surrounding it was torn up, like the stone in the plaza on that day…the blood…the blood, it was everywhere…it was—

“No… No, no, no… Oh, gods, no.”

The ground swayed beneath his feet. It was everywhere, on the stone, in her hair, on his hands, on the floor pooling, puddling—

Strength left him. He collapsed onto all fours, tried to catch his breath, but it was in the air, in his lungs, in his gut churning, bubbling—

“Oh, gods, Kamui… What have I done? What have I done to you?”

This wasn’t heaven.

This was hell.

It burned as it raced up his throat, flooded his mouth, pierced the back of his skull.

Betrayal… Death… Murder…

Betrayal

Death

Murder

Betrayal death

Murder betrayal death murder

Betrayal death murder betrayal death

Murder betrayal death murder betrayal death murder betrAyal death murder betrayal death mUrder betrayal death murder betrayal deAtH murder bEtRayAl death murder betrayal dEaTh mUrDeR bEtRaYaL DeAtH MUrDER BETRAYAL DEATH MURDER BETRAYAL DEATH MURDER BETRAYAL DEATH MURDER BETRAYAL DEATH MURDER BETRAYAL

It was everywhere, on his lips, on his clothes, on the grass. It reeked of steel and acid aNd beTrAYaL.

“Takumi!”

Takumi!

Takumi.

Takumi…

I am Takumi.

I am…Takumi!

I aM tAkUmI!

He folded upon himself, hid his head between his knees, slammed his eyelids shut to the rest of the world. But it was still everywhere. It poured through broken windows and stained the walls red. It flowed through the throne room and splashed off his face and ran off his cheeks like teardrops, shattering against the floor.

_How could I let this happen?_

At the foot of the throne she lay, stiff as a stone thrown into a crimson current—unmoving, unbreathing as it clotted in her hair, trickled from a single point at the back of her head.

_Kamui._

Why couldn’t he move? No matter he much he willed his legs to run to her side, his body betrayed him.

_“Kamui…is dead…at last.”_

No… It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be that.

_“She will never…open her eyes…again.”_

But why else was his voice burning purple and black at the edges?

An axe. A sword. A lance. Slice, slash, stab. Red everywhere. White-hot pain erupting at the base of his skull.

_“I believe in you, Takumi…”_

A cloak of fire. A curtain of embers. A wall of flames exploding outward, rending the floor, throwing bodies to the side.

_“I know the real you is still in there.”_

A silver yumi. A black bowstring. A purple arrow pointed at her body. Slice, slash, stab. Kill… Must kill them all… None shall survive… NoNe sHaLl sUrViVe mY wRaTh!

A hand met his shoulder blade, and his eyelids snapped open.

“Takumi…”

_Kamui…_

He was a ship weathered by fate, and she was an anchor rooted in the ocean’s floor, holding him in place as he thrashed upon the waves.

_What happened to us?_

The scent of tea leaves drifted into his nose, drawing his attention back to her.

“Takumi… It’s okay.” He shuddered as she worked her fingers through his ponytail, loosening the knots along its length. “What matters now is that we’re here together. Maybe… Maybe we can finally get to know each other a little better, Brother.”

Brother.

That word shattered his heart to pieces.

Brother.

This Kamui wasn’t his Kamui. This Kamui… Her name was Corrin. Corrin, like Kamui, was a princess who grew up in the Dark Night Kingdom of the West, locked away in the tallest tower of Castle Krakenburg. One day, Kamui and Corrin were captured and escorted to Castle Shirasagi, the heartbeat that gave life to the White Night Kingdom of the East. It was there where they learned the truth of their heritage—they were born to the queen of light, and they were abducted by the king of darkness before they could form memories.

Then, they were faced with a terrible decision. Light or dark? Blood or bonds? Family or family?

Kamui chose the light. Corrin chose the dark.

This Kamui wasn’t his Kamui. This Kamui knew him as Brother. His Kamui knew him as Beloved.

“Sister…”

That word tasted foul in his mouth.

This Kamui wasn’t his Kamui. His Kamui would never go down without a fight.

“Sister, no… Not now.” He interlaced his fingers with hers and, using her as a support for his shaking limbs, rose to his feet. “You have to go back. You’re much better than this.”

_You’re much better than me._

Little burn marks decorated her hands. The light of this place hadn’t healed them yet. There was still time for her to cross back over.

“Takumi, I know I—”

“No, it’s not about that. I feel nothing negative toward you. You have to go back because…”

He stilled his breath, met her cherry-red eyes.

“You promised, remember?”

_Promise me that you’ll survive._

_Promise me that if I ever point my bow at you again, you’ll kill me…and save yourself._

_Promise me you’ll definitely do that._

She had to remember. Both Kamui and Corrin swore to uphold that promise.

“But Takumi… If you’re here, then how can you be—?”

“Alive?” He rolled his eyes. If there was one thing Kamui and Corrin shared, it was dumb childlike naivety. “No, I’m here and here alone. But… A long time ago, I started hearing a voice in my head. It kept saying it wouldn’t stand in the shadows any longer… Over time, the more I heard it, the more I found myself blacking out for no reason.”

He pressed his lips together, and his vision grew foggy.

“Sister… I think I was possessed by a demon. And… And I’ll never be free as long as it’s using my corpse as a puppet.”

Another wave of nausea crashed over him, spiraled in his head. His heart pressed against the roof of his mouth and panted for air to feed to his trembling limbs.

Was this his punishment for every wrong he committed during his life? Eternal bondage to an otherworldly being who sought to destroy Nohr—no, both kingdoms—in its wake? Migraines that would never cease as he watched it profane not only his name as a Hoshidan prince but also the name of his homeland?

An axe, a sword, a lance. Slice. Slash. Stab. Smoke filling his head. A songstress’s melody tickling his eardrums. A high-pitched shriek.

Bone-white silence.

Betrayal. Loathing. Revenge.

A single tear searing down his cheek, curling around his jaw.

“Takumi… Gods, Takumi, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you’ve been suffering so long like this. If I may be honest, I hated it when you asked me to keep that promise, but…”

She enveloped his hands in hers and held them under her chin.

“Now I see why I absolutely have to keep that promise. Takumi, I promise I won’t let you down.”

She was right. She wouldn’t.

_Kamui…_

This Kamui wasn’t his Kamui. But like his Kamui, Corrin was a queen upon a shogi board. She could force herself into impossible situations and bend the rules of the game to her will.

Corrin’s story was different than Kamui’s. She took different lives, spared different lives, protected different lives. However, both Kamui and Corrin knew how to express love in every shade, from purple loyalty to yellow generosity, red empathy to green curiosity, orange sincerity to blue ferocity—

“But…” She lowered her gaze and frowned. “I… I don’t know how I’m going to do it. My Yato… It’s broken.”

“It is?”

That…actually made a lot of sense. Why else would she be here if the blade of salvation didn’t shatter? But what other weapon had enough might to exorcise a demon latching onto his corpse? No ordinary weapon—no tome, no axe, no sword, no lance, no knife—would be able to penetrate the wall of flames surrounding the demon, without disintegrating upon impact. That left—

“Sister, do you know how to shoot a bow?”

He held his breath for her answer. If she didn’t, then—

“I… Yes, I do. One of Leo’s retainers taught me a while ago.”

_Thank the gods. This plan might work, after all._

Dimples spread across her cheeks. “I wanted to learn because you made it look so incredible when I was in Hoshido.”

Kamui spoke those same words months ago.

 

_“You make archery look so incredible, Takumi!”_

_A compliment._

_“I’m really not that incredible. I still have a long way to go before I become the best.”_

_A denial._

_“Well… Maybe you would consider teaching me sometime? I feel like I barely know you, and it’d give us a chance to spend some time together.”_

_An opened door._

_“No promises.”_

_A closed door._

 

“I…”

He swiped another tear away from his eyelashes, let his arms hang at his sides.

_I’m really not that incredible, Kamui. But you are._

If there was one good thing about this damned situation, it was that he could fall in love with Kamui all over again.

Fuujin lay in the grass by his foot. He picked it up, glided his fingers over its wings.

_It’s funny… I still wonder why you chose me, of all people, to wield you._

Then he extended it outward.

_But maybe… Maybe this is the reason why._

“I want you to take this from me…my Fuujin Yumi. Take it and put that demon in its place.”

“But…”

She ran her hand along Fuujin’s limbs, flinched when the bowstring sparked to life.

“But this is so valuable to you.”

_Yes, that’s true…_

“I can’t accept this from you… I just can’t!”

_But you’re more valuable to me than any bow._

His grip didn’t waver.

“Please, Sister… You have to. You’re the only one who can set me free.”

Kamui reached for and retracted from the bow too many times to count, but at last she took it, flipped it over in her hands several times without a word. Then she turned downhill, pulled back on the bowstring, and released it.

_Fwip!_

A sky-blue arrow flew through the air along a straight path, exploded into countless little arrows that rained one after one onto the field.

A line of sweat drew across his forehead. Was this Fuujin’s way of declaring Kamui as its next wielder? It took him at least a whole year to master that move!

“Takumi, I will treasure this always.” She lowered the bow and spun back around, eyes encased in crystal. “I swear upon your precious Fuujin Yumi that I will set you free.”

Even if the darkness threatened to swallow her, she would triumph.

She would triumph because she was the light.

“Thank you, Kamui.”

A few drops within of the sea of his eyes found their way to shore, streamed down his face like raindrops on a window.

This Kamui was his Kamui. Even though Corrin knew nothing about partaking in Hoshidan festivals or preparing mochi or playing shogi, she embodied the same spirit as Kamui.

Like his Kamui, this Kamui was love itself.

He took a few steps forward, boots squishing in the grass, and hugged her, shivering as his chin kissed her uncovered shoulder.

“I… I wish we could’ve been close…close like this.”

_But we were._

“I wish I could’ve hugged you and never let go or laughed with you until my stomach hurt.”

_We were close like this, in another world._

“I-I wish I could’ve felt your warmth during my coldest nights or heard your voice call out to me from my worst nightmares—”

_And now, we must cling to the fragments of truth that still hold us together._

“And… And I wish I could’ve told you that I love you, before it was too late.”

_The truth is that I love you, Kamui, and you love me._

In Kamui’s story he could recite Mother’s letter word-for-word. In Corrin’s story he never opened it, or so he assumed.

“Takumi, I wish I could’ve gotten closer to you too.” Her voice brushed against his ear. “Sometimes I think about how everything would have turned out if I decided to stay in Hoshido… This might sound silly, but I imagine us becoming close friends when I catch myself daydreaming about that.”

She sighed, then continued. “I think we would’ve been close because both of us carry insecurities. We both try our best in everything we do, but it never feels good enough.”

Not good enough… When did he hear that before?

 

_“Takumi, I… I can’t do this anymore.”_

_The humming of waves under the black sky and white moon._

_“Everyone sees me as a hero in this war, but my choices… My actions…”_

_The squeaking of planks under boot soles._

_“They aren’t good enough. I’m not good enough. So many innocent people have lost their lives because of me.”_

_Callused hands embracing a soft fist. White sobs cutting through the black pines shielding the pond._

_“I’m not a hero, Takumi—I’m a murderer. And my family in Nohr… What will happen to them? Will they be killed because of me, too?”_

_Black talons sheathing themselves into a white palm. Steel running through the creases of her hand onto his, glinting crimson under the gray light._

 

She kissed his cheek and pulled away from his arms. Heat engulfed the place where her lips met his skin, and his chest tingled with every pass of blood through his heart.

Gods, he wanted more…more than just one kiss. But there was no way he could suggest intimacy to a woman who would view it as incest.

The corners of her lips inched upward. “Takumi, I love you. I love you for the imperfect person you are. When I look at you, I see a man who’s strong enough to keep moving forward even though he’s wearing shackles of self-hatred. I see a man who loves his family and kingdom so much that he fought to the death to protect them.”

She closed her eyes and dipped her head.

“So, I will do the same. I will fight until my last breath to protect you!”

“Just—”

_Bu-bump. Bu-bump. Bu-bump._

“J-just don’t go dying on me again, okay?”

He coughed into his fist. How could every word she spoke cause his skin to flare up with goosebumps?

Threads of sky-blue light extended from Fuujin’s body and began knitting a chrysalis around Kamui. The first stitches clung to her toes while every new stitch joined hands with one another and reached for the sky. All the stitches converged at the crown of her head, where a sun ray pierced the chrysalis and refracted the colors of the rainbow against her dress.

For a few seconds, he forgot how to breathe. Her beauty… It was binding, blazing, radiant—a mystery that awakened echoes of fate. Her beauty was more sacred than that of an emblem chiseled from fire.

The colors saturating her dress… Those were the colors of her heart. The same colors that washed away the gray in his life and flooded it with meaning.

Within the walls of the chrysalis, eddies of air tousled the hem of her skirt. The eddies fused into zephyrs, the zephyrs fused into gusts, and the gusts fused into a gale, whipping her hair in all directions. Such marked the beginning of Fuujin’s test. It was a test of endurance—if the wielder could stand amidst the gale for five minutes without being thrown out of the chrysalis, they would earn the title ‘Master of Sky’ from Fuujin himself. Easy enough, right?

The test was far from easy though… He had begun training for it after Mother told him Fuujin selected him to be the next wielder of the Fuujin Yumi, on his thirteenth birthday. By that time, he had three years of archery training under his belt, and he trained three additional years before attempting the test. One three-hour practice session each day became two, and two became three. He landed himself in the infirmary too many times to count, but he snuck out to practice in his bandages every chance he could get, even if it worsened his injuries. Besides, pain was good for him. He had to steel himself against it, or else he wouldn’t have stood a chance against the wrath of Fuujin’s wind.

He was wrong. No amount of tolerance training could’ve prepared him for the test.

During the test, Fuujin had engraved his name into Takumi’s arms over and over again, using the wind as his knife. Lines of fire grew into patches upon his flesh. Screams boiled in his stomach; screams he couldn’t release unless he wanted to look weak. By the end of the five minutes, streaks of blood covered his arms from collarbones to nails, he lay on the ground unconscious, and he had earned the title ‘Master of Sky’.

And now, it was Kamui’s turn to earn that title for herself.

What did Fuujin think of her? Did he look upon her with favor? Or did he look upon her with fury because she chose Nohr as her home?

Amid the gale she remained still, as if she were the eye of the storm. Despite the wind lashing at her arms, her eyes didn’t open, and her smile didn’t fall. No blood stained her skin, either—but how? Kamui was blessed with healing abilities like Mother, but even Mother bore scars from Fuujin’s test. Fuujin never granted mercy to any normal human. Then again, Kamui was anything but normal.

After what seemed like an eternity, the wind petered out and the Fuujin Yumi’s bowstring glowed brighter than before. It reflected the color of the high-noon sky, but it also reflected the color of the grass. What did that mean? Did Fuujin acknowledge her not only as ‘Master of Sky’ but also as something else, like ‘Master of Land’?

Whatever it meant, the green color blended into each stitch of the chrysalis, which then unfolded in a ring of petals around Kamui’s feet.

Kamui, the Master of Sky and Land. It had a nice ring to it. But above all else, Kamui was the master of his heart.

The color of her dress was white.

“Takumi.”

She lifted her head, and her gaze pinned his heart to his ribcage.

“Takumi, it’s time for me to go.”

As the words departed her lips, her body began dissolving in the milky light. It unraveled her fingers and toes first, and it worked its way up her calves and forearms.

_Kamui…_

Was this it? Was this the final time he would see his beloved until she lived out the rest of her life? What about his life with his Kamui? Would he never be able to return to that life? Would he be stuck here forever?

“Kamui, I…”

_I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to say goodbye._

“I love you more than anything.”

But if he didn’t let go…

Damn it. Not now. Deep breaths… In and out… In and out…

“I-I wish nothing but happiness for you, wherever you go and whatever you do.”

_Because you first showed me what true happiness looks like._

The light had erased all but her shoulders and head.

_If someone ever asks me about you, I’ll tell them you’re a paradox. You’re a sun that blinds my darkest nights. You’re a mist that drenches me and dries my tears. You’re a snowfall that defrosts the frozen parts of my heart._

She was gray in a world of black and white. She was a paint stroke of red upon a white canvas. She was another vexing human who refused to bow down to her forgotten god.

_What the hell?!_

Takumi’s blood ran cold. Was that what was going on? A god possessed him not because it wished eternal punishment upon him but because it was butthurt about having no followers? Why the hell would a god use a ‘vexing human’ to do its bidding if it hated humans so much? If only he could punch that god—no, that demon—square in the face! No wonder it had no followers! That bastard!

“Kamui, I’ll never forgive you if I see you here again. You hear me? Show that demon what you’re made of!”

The light foamed around her face, folded over her eyes.

“I promise, Takumi.”

Then she was no more.

_I promise._

Her words hung in the air and jabbed him in the stomach. Fuujin’s light no longer masqueraded the grass where she stood.

Gods, everything hurt. Wasn’t the afterlife supposed to provide a reprieve from pain and sadness? Wasn’t killing those wretched humans the only way to open their eyes to their sins?

“Get out of my head… Get out, get out, get out!”

He staggered to the sakura tree, pressed his back against the trunk, and slid to the ground. When did it happen? When did that demon implant its conscience into his mind? When did he start hearing its voice? If it wasn’t when Kamui chose Hoshido and Corrin chose Nohr, then—

There was only one possible answer.

The Bottomless Canyon.

It had to be that. No one who fell down the Bottomless Canyon ever made it out alive—no one except him. The landslide… Was it orchestrated to deliver him into the demon’s hands? Was the demon’s dwelling place located at the bottom of the canyon? Did the Bottomless Canyon even have a bottom?

He pulled his knees to his chest and buried his chin between them. This was all his fault, like everything else. If he hadn’t been so careless, then…

…No, that was a stupid thought. Could he really have avoided it? Even if he had never gotten caught in the landslide, wouldn’t the demon have found another way to trap him in its web?

Was falling under a demon’s control his fate no matter what?

_Takumi, when you grow up, you’re not going to become an ambassador for Hoshido. You’re going to become a vessel for a resentful god who hates humanity and wants everybody dead. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?_

Well, even if that was his fate, fate could be rewritten. Kamui rewrote fate when she dueled death in the Nohrian throne room and won. And she would rewrite fate again, with Fuujin’s favor on her side.

Kamui… She was the type of person who could dance in a tempest and grieve under the sun. To her, nothing was impossible. If she wanted to throw a mountain into the ocean, she could find a way. If she wanted to unite white night and dark night under the same sky, she could find a way. Hell, if she wanted to make an artisan’s heart of stone bleed, she could find a way.

She could find a way to let his blood flow through her veins… She could find a way to lay waste to this world… She could find a way to betray them all…

“Don’t you dare!”

He clawed at his chest, slammed the back of his head into the trunk. Ice smoldered, cackled between his ears, melted into lava that oozed down his neck, snaked around his shoulders.

“D-don’t you dare touch her, or else I’ll… I’ll…!”

Ha. What could he do? He was dead, unable to affect her world. Once again, he proved useless. Big Brother, Big Sister, and Sakura were probably fighting that _thing_ with Kamui and her Nohrian siblings, and all he could do was—

He closed his eyes, willed his mind to invade his corpse. If that demon could torment him here, well, then maybe he could torment the demon on the other side. Torment it how? Who knew. But if he could find a way to restrict its movements or weaken its attacks or something, he wasn’t going to sit back and watch.

Once again, he found himself in the throne room—or what remained of it. Flames, orange and black, feasted on the tapestries hanging from the walls, and water, red and purple, flooded the hallway, swirled around his ankles. Dust and smoke clung to the air. Jagged stones impaled the floorboards and windows, threatening to chomp through the corridor. Silver light—from the sun or the moon, he couldn’t tell—oozed from cracks in the ceiling tiles and permeated his skin, frosted over his nerves.

Where was everybody? Where was Kamui?

He felt his body lean back on its own, arms lifting and knees buckling. A purple shaft materialized before his eyes. His fingers pulled back. His muscles trembled.

“ _I’ll kill you…KAMUI… This time…for keeps!_ ”

He felt his mouth move against his will. Acid frothed in his stomach. Where was she? Damn it, where was she?

Against the left wall, he caught a glimpse of Princess Elise kneeling on the ground, waving a long object over Azura’s body. An older woman stood in front of them brandishing an axe and locking strikes with…a shadow? Two shadows?

He flicked his gaze to the other side. A black bolt shot out of the fog, raced toward his legs, not enough time to dodge. It pierced his knees yet failed to shift his body’s abominable stance.

Useless, useless, useless! Wasn’t there something, anything he could do? This was his body, damn it! Why couldn’t he lower his arms? Why couldn’t he drop the bow? Why couldn’t he move his legs? Why couldn’t he find Kamui? Why? Why?!

“ _Betrayal…_ ”

Another shadow suddenly flanked him, mirrored his stance, loosed a purple arrow into the fog. A man cried out in pain; steel clattered against the floor.

“Xander!”

Kamui.

She was near. She was okay. She was alive.

“ _Betrayal…_ ”

She was alive. She was alive. Thank the gods she was—

“ _I AM BETRAYAL!_ ”

He felt his fingers release the bowstring, and all time seemed to stop.

_Kamui._

The arrow flew farther and farther away, howled through the air—

_Kamui._

The arrow flew closer and closer to her head, impaled every shadow in its path—

_Kamui._

Why wasn’t she moving? She could see the arrow coming—why wasn’t she moving?

“KAMUI, MOVE!”

His voice echoed off the walls and dissolved into nothing. Whether those words made it past the walls of his mind to the outside, he didn’t know.

Upon impact, the arrow exploded into hundreds of black shards, ricocheting in every direction, tearing holes through the remaining shadow fighters.

_Oh, gods…_

She was okay… She was alive… She had to be. Kamui was too good to let a lame attack like that strike her down.

Wasn’t she?

_Kamui… Where are you?_

Kamui…was no longer standing there, at the opposite end of the hall.

He failed.

His chest throbbed. His head throbbed. Everything throbbed.

Once again, he failed to keep the demon from touching his sunrise.

His eyes burned. His throat burned. Everything burned.

Failure. He was a failure. He was a failure of a person when he was alive, and now he was a failure of a soul. Once a failure, always a failure.

He sank to his knees and stared a far-reaching gaze into the silver body of the demon’s bow. Was this the end? Was this the end of not only Kamui but also Sakura, Big Sister, and Big Brother? Was this the end of his Hoshido—no, the whole world?

Was this the end of everything and everyone he loved?

Well, there was no point in trying to stop the demon now. He had to go greet Kamui again in the afterlife, as well as his siblings.

He tried to open his eyes on the other side, but they wouldn’t open. Great. Just great. No way to return. A fitting end for a failure like him—a prisoner in his own corpse, roaming from land to land, destroying kingdom after kingdom, lost in thoughts.

All alone.

He blinked away a few tears lurking in the corners of his eyes.

“Kamui…”

Her name came as a whisper to his lips, so quiet he doubted he said it. What was the point of crying? What was the point of feeling anything anymore? What was the point of feeling anything if he would be separated from her forever?

The bow in his hands… It would become a weapon of mass genocide. A weapon that would steal thousands of innocent lives, rip families apart, crumble order into chaos…and it would keep firing until the end of time, so long as the demon fueled its will.

“ _A burdened heart… Sinks into the ground…_ ”

That described his heart perfectly. A heart burdened with so many emotions it could feel none.

“ _A veil falls away without a sound…_ ”

The flames enveloping his body… They receded into his flesh, and the eyes in the bow showed traces of light brown amidst blood-red. But… Weren’t those…?

“ _Not day nor night, wrong nor right…_ ”

Tree branches sprouted from the ground and ensnared his body in their grasp. Vines tightened around his wrists, pinned his arms out to both sides. His legs dangled above the floor. Gravity sank over his head and shoulders like a blanket, wrapping him in a cocoon of ice. What was…?

“ _For truth and peace, you fight._ ”

With the scraps of strength he had left, he lifted his head. Two people stood in front of the throne, side by side. One was…Leo? Indeed; Prince Leo, with one hand clutching his divine tome and ribbons of magic flowing around the other. But the other… It was—

Blue and green light swept through the hall, eroding every color except itself, brushing against Takumi’s cheeks like the spring breeze. Yes… It had to be!

A single arrow burst out of the light, flew toward his body. The demon’s bow slipped from his fingers and hit the floor with a clack.

“ _I will… I MUST…_ ”

It was the only person who could shame death and get away with it.

“ _Kill… Betray…_ ”

The arrow impaled his heart, through the chest and out the back.

_If you were aiming for my heart, you’ve struck true._

The tree suspending him in the air dissipated, and he found himself flying backward.

_This was meant to be._

She did it. Once again, Kamui did the impossible. Once again, Kamui rewrote fate. She took an ending and crafted it into a beginning. It was the beginning of a new future—one unmarked by the threat of apocalypse at the hands of a resentful demon. One marked by the promise of peace as both kingdoms strove to understand each other better.

One in which she continued to live and he went somewhere far away, free from the demon’s grasp forever.

He collided against the floor, back cracking in protest, and skidded to a halt. Weird… The circle of blood over his chest continued growing, but he couldn’t feel the wound’s sting. Actually, that was an understatement—he couldn’t feel anything, except his face. How many bones were broken? Was his heart still beating? Was it beating at all?

Ha. What did it matter? He was still dead. His body was still just a corpse. It was only a matter of time before he returned to the other side.

“Takumi!”

A pair of feet thudded against the floor, growing louder and louder with each step. Hopefully that time wasn’t soon.

His field of view shifted from the ceiling to the far wall. Something cold and wet fell onto the bridge of his nose, and the scent of tea leaves swathed his body.

“Takumi… I… I—”

A sob clipped her voice to silence. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his forehead, pausing there for a few seconds before pulling back. Warmth buzzed through his body, even as more of her tears fell onto his cheeks and ran down his neck.

Tears he was too weak to cry.

“I-I did it… I kept my promise… Rest in peace, my…my beloved Taku.”

_Kamui…_

His lips parted. Only his Kamui called him that.

_Kamui, you are the wind beneath my broken wings. You’re the reason why I can fly. You always catch me when I fall._

She was the incarnation of a miracle. A miracle he didn’t deserve.

Even though he couldn’t move, he never felt so free.

Milky light crept around the corners of his vision. Time was running short. Too short. Couldn’t he stay here? Couldn’t he stay cradled in his beloved’s arms forever? Did he have to return the other side?

He had to act now, before it was too late.

Takumi craned his neck and gave her the largest smile he could muster.

“Th… Thank…you… Ka…mui…”

He closed his eyes and melted into her warmth.

_Because of you, I am who I am._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This, my friends, marks the official end of this story. What happens next is entirely up to your imagination.
> 
> Again, I would like to give a huge thank you to those who decided to take a chance and read this story. I hope you enjoyed the journey as much as I did when I originally put words to it. :)


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